


Ghost in the Back of Your Head

by twinky_dinky_doo



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Narcissism, Platonic Romance, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Reader-Insert, Smut, hypersexuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinky_dinky_doo/pseuds/twinky_dinky_doo
Summary: Jeff the killer is finally arrested and everyone is just itching to get his ass in prison. Normally you would too. But after making a certain promise during an altercation, the unrelenting feeling of obligation binding you to the maniac. Day to day life now testing how much compassion you truly have.





	1. I See a Silhouette of a Man

“Isn’t it terrible?”

Your mother said as she leaned over. She was referencing to the news story playing on the TV in the Jiffy Lube waiting room, where you two sat. It’s a Saturday, and grocery shopping is well overdue. You normally have your older sister take you, but she’s working. Your mother has a day off and is going out to get her car an oil change. Though you prefer not to go out with her, the barren fridge was enough of a motive that you felt you could deal with it.

“Yeah, that is kinda shitty,” you responded back to your mother.

You hadn’t been paying particularly close attention to the television, it’s enough to occupy.

          The news story is about a house that burned down with a family and several neighbors inside. Apparently, the victims had been stabbed and tied at a dinner table. The only survivors are a young girl who is now in critical condition, and the younger son, who is still missing.

The suspect is eldest son, Jeffery Alan Woods, age thirteen, who was seen coming out of the house. The report continued to say that Jeffery had been a recent burn victim, having been doused with bleach and vodka by a classmate at a birthday party. He’s described as having discolored skin, black hair, and last seen wearing a white hoodie with black dress pants. Jeffery was also being linked to several other murders that happened within the past two weeks. The news station cautioned listeners to keep at least one light on, lock all doors and windows, and alert authorities if you think you may have seen him.

You continued lazily watching the screen as it showed a police sketch of the suspect. “Ugly motherfucker though.”

The receptionist called your mother’s name, letting her know the oil change finished. She paid for the service, you two leaving promptly to the supermarket. Luckily, the food shopping had gone without incident.

You returned home to find your sister hunched over the dinner table eating leftovers. Still in uniform though her work shift ended probably a few hours ago.

“Hey,” you said curtly in short greeting.

She replied in kind, turning over to you with dropped, groggy eyes. She seemed exhausted, but never the less helped with putting away the groceries; as she always made a point to. You followed after, grabbing bags from the trunk.

Your sister has always been kind, loving and supportive, always trying to pull her weight in the house, both with chores and financially. But due to the absence of your father, that means taking on more than a few responsibilities. In spite of that, complaining isn't in her nature and now is not an exception.   

“How was work?” your mom asked your sister.

“Fine,”

“Did you get the mail?”

Your sister nodded and pointed to the small pile of envelopes on the side table by the door. Your mother gave quick thanks and began to shuffle through the post.

“Anything?” you wondered, taking a drink from your water bottle that you left on the counter that morning.

“Nothing much." She put down the envelopes and looked up.

"There’s a bill from your self-defense class. How is that going by the way?”

“Fine.” You replied, “I’m thinking of stopping though, and just practicing on my own. I mean, I’ve been doing it for like, a couple years. I feel pretty confident in it, and my instructor says I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. If you’re sure,”

“Yup. I can stay at the same gym and you could keep dropping me off at the same times, if that’s chill with you.”

“Sounds like a plan. Also, I have a date tonight. Is that okay?” your mom asked, getting few boxes and putting them in a pantry.

“It’s fine.”

“Of course. Have fun,” your sister followed.

“Alright. It’s soon though, I should probably start getting ready now,” your mother continued, stuffing the now empty plastic bags into one.

She left the kitchen in a hurry, phone notifications fading off as she went down the hallway.

          You sat down taking out your phone and started flipping through twitter.

“Anything happen while you were out?”

“No. The news at the oil change place was playing some story about a fuckin’ lunatic who burnt his house and killed his family or some shit.”

“Really? And no one survived?”

“There was one girl, who’s like dead now I think, but the younger brother is missing and they think the older one did it.”

“Shouldn’t the missing kid be a suspect?”

Her cell phone began ringing, she quickly went over to answer. Paying no mind to her conversation; your friend, Harris, texted asking to call. Before you could reply to her, your sister hung up.

“Sorry baby, I gotta go back into work. Someone got sick and needs me to fill in for them,”

Pulling her shoes on; she grabbed her car keys and shouted into the hallway to your mother that she’ll be going out.

“Will you be okay by yourself?” she asked, a hint of sympathy showing through.

You gave an absent-minded sound of acknowledgement. You then looked out the window and noticed how late it’s grown. So you decided to go for a jog before calling Harris, of course texting her that. You don’t want it to get too dark while you ran, and you hadn’t gotten the chance for your usual exercises that morning anyway.

“I’m gonna go jog,” you told your sister, putting on sneakers and a jacket.

“Okay hunty, take the phone,” she reminded gently, fluffing her hair into place to no avail.

You gave a short “yeah,” as you tucked the cell phone into your right pocket.

“Alright, I’ll be going then. Love ya.” Her voice fading out into the doorway.

“Love you,” you answered, waving as you watched her leave.

You gave a slight sigh at the sudden silence before going out of the door yourself.

          The air had cooled in the evening, the sky already shifting into a darker blue. You turned out of your cul de sac, quickening your pace to a steady jog. Your breathing begins to feel laboured, getting into the swing of it seems impossible each time. The best thing you’ve found is to distract yourself. 

Looking around you were reminded there had been a fair amount of construction in your neighbourhood recently. The community council had a lot of trees placed between and around the houses to give some sort of “back to nature” feel. The suburb now has small wooded areas where more road had been. And while your mother thought it was nice, you thought it just looked hick.

You had only gotten down the first street on your route when sharp gurgled screams came from the corner house.

You gave a small, involuntary jump at the sudden noise. Pulling your arms close to your chest, you stepped back. That scream is unlike any you heard, there was something shrill and unabashed about it, something actors in slasher films only hoped to match.

The only light turned on is from what assumed to be the living room. Your curiosity got the better of you; hardly realising you instinctively walked toward the front of the house. Your footsteps inching cautiously on the front lawn, stopping about ten feet from a large window. You strained for any sign of what may have happened.

From the semi-transparent curtains, you could see a man with broad shoulders being stabbed repeatedly by someone in a hoodie.

A child, probably no more than three, screaming for his father as his mother scooped him up in her arms. Her sobs becoming audible even at your distance. Your knees quaked at the sight, leaving you weak and frozen to the spot. Your mouth dried and your chest squeezed, breath feeling like a luxury.

Your mind raced with confusion. Is there something you could do? Some way to get them out? Maybe if you could get the front door open? No, it’s probably locked. But then again how did this kid get in? From the back, probably. The only thing you could really think to do is to call the authorities.

Hurriedly, you dug into your jacket pocket and yanked out your phone, dialling 911. The dial tone beeped agonisingly slow. You bounced slightly on your toes in impatience. Finally, the operator answered.

“911 what’s your emergency,” a feminine voice spoke in a soft robotic tone.

You heaved a sharp breath before answering.

“Yes, I would like to report a murder…at um, a-a brick house with a white door. On the corner of Teaberry Street and North West Avenue.”

“Alright, I have the address. Do you know who the victim is or who committed the crime?”

“Uh, I don’t know the family, b-but the killer is wearing… a hoodie and looks on the shorter side.”

“Can you describe his face to me?”

Your breathing was getting short with tension. You looked up into the window to see if you could catch a glimpse. The wife rushed to a small table near the window. The killer finished with her husband. And now turned his attention to her, but his eyes landed on something else instead.

          The criminal seems like a young teenage boy, dark shoulder length hair grazing his hood in each sharp movement, his pale skin seeming eerie and off-putting. He has what looked to be a wide smile, almost inhumanly wide, bulging eyes to pair.

Eyes that had noticed you in the yard.

His dash halted, focus entirely on you, the woman now sneaking towards her keys. His forehead furrowed as he undoubtedly realised that you’re on your phone, his eyes locking with yours. The obvious rage sending you stiff. Your muscles clenched as your spine grew tense. The realisation that you’ve made yourself a threat to him, banged in your head. The realisation that once he gets out of that house, you’re next, clumping in your throat.

“Hello? Hello, are you still there?” the operator called, interrupting your stagger.

“Ah um yes. Th-the guy, the culprit has black hair I-I think, and uh really really pale skin, and uh…”

You tried your best to describe and shake off the murderers’ gaze. Fortunately, having the notice on you, gave enough distraction for the wife to make a break for her car. She had left the door when the murder noticed her again and resumed his chase. The woman flew to the car door. Running past and giving no notice to you, jamming the key in and rushing inside, her child situated on her lap. The killer sprinted as best he could to make up the distance.

It was too late. She had ignited her engine and was screeching out of the driveway. The murderer stood watching, his shoulders heaving from the pursuit.

“Hello?”

   The operator spoke louder. You couldn’t move. The manic is standing with his back to you. No barriers between you.

“Hello?”

His fist clenched. The stained knife trembling in his tightening grasp.

“Hello?”

He spun around. Face now in full view, making his mutilation clear.

His mouth extends to a Glasgow grin. The distasteful ‘smile’ lined with yellow crusted puss and sparsely picked scabs; inflamed inner cheek tissue puffed from behind it. A thin black ring of char circled his eyelids, what left of them curled back on the surrounding skin, showing his eyes to be as bulgy as they seemed in the window. He stared for a moment, humming out a low growl. The strange features made him look like a fake cryptid in a student film.

He charged without warning.  

Your mind turned blank. A light tremor coursed under your skin, blood pressure taking a sudden plunge.

“Please stay on the-”

The murder grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall before any more can be said. He reached out but you stumbled, losing your footing and falling backwards. While scrambling to get back up, he yanked you by the collar of your jacket, dragging you into the wooded area across the street with both hands.

          You kicked around as much as you could, clawing at his hands. Your assailant grunted under the added strain but continued. He hauled you into the woods a relatively long way to give better cover, trapping you in further. He let go of your collar but as soon as he did, you tried to scurry off.

“Don’t think so,” he shouted, catching your arm, his painful grip threw you down.

You have no idea what he’s gonna do, dozens of situations flashed through your mind, panic flooding your thoughts. A light sob started bursting from you. The lunatic stepped forward, standing over you with his knife poised. You gazed up at him, desperation filling you as you were now granted an another perfect view of him. Feeling everything inside you lurch, you realised something. Not just the fact his clothes are filthy and smell like old pork, but that he’s…small. His white face seeming to glow in the darkened air; and despite all of its scarring, it’s still…child-like somehow. His overall frame now seeming to resemble those neighbour kids in middle school. Your eyes falling to his extended grin, it clicked in your mind.

“You like it? I did it myself,” he glowed proudly, gliding the fingertips of his free hand along the edge of the gashes.

“Yeah, I love it. Pablo Picasso couldn’t hope to create anything better,” you sneered.

The kid’s mouth clenched as his large forehead puckered towards his nose.

“Shut up! You should be honoured to even get to even see my lovely face. I hear I’m famous now.”

“Yeah, I know you,” you spoke out.

He curled his upper lip in an attempted grin.

“Hm-hm,” he chuckled, “No use now.”

His words slurred through the Glasgow grin, he wound his arm back to give power to his strike. “Now go to-”

“Yeah you’re Jeffrey Dahmer!” you exclaimed. His mouth hung open, the corner of his left eye twitching.

“The frick-no I’m Jeff-”

“Jeffree Star!” you continued as you snapped your fingers.

He pulled the front of his lips back into a scowl, taking in an angry breath and lifted his shoulders defensively.

“Try again, dipshit.” He knelt closer, almost hovering over you and pointing his knife at your face.

You paused, tilting your head and tapping your chin. He seemed like most kids his age. The fierce protection of an inflated ego all important.

“Jeffrey…Forest?”

He grunted in a gravelled voice.

“No you dumb bitch! Woods! Woods!” he shouted, gritting his teeth.

You blinked at him for a moment, using the opportunity to quickly slide out from under him.

Leaning on one leg you sighed out, “Oh,”

“I guess you aren’t that memorable.”

This must’ve struck a nerve. His face scrunched at the bridge of his nose and fivehead. He lunged forward, knife swinging. Your stomach flipped at the advance and you tried to jump back as fast as you could.

Jeffrey recovered from his miss and roared softly as he jabbed down the knife in your left shoulder, just above the collarbone. You yelped, feeling your blood freeze from the deep pain. You trained if moments like this should ever arrive. Now that it was present before you, everything you learned escaped your mind. You tried to gather your mind from the panic-driven stupor and figure out the way to handle the situation.

Your aggressor then slapped you into a tree. Back crashing against the trunk, knocking the wind right out of you. You squeezed your tearing eyes in agony. You could hear him cackle throatily in the night as though admiring your fight.

You heaved for breath and opened your eyes in time to see Jeffery’s arm thrusting in for a fatal stab, something snapped in your mind.

Instinctually you reached for the arm, catching it mid-push and twisted it inwardly. You took advantage of his surprise and snatched the knife from his hand, adjusting the grip so your thumb rests firmly on the spine of the blade. He looked bewildered for a moment before realising what you had done. Swivelling his head around trying to see where you had gotten to. True, night was falling but it hadn’t gotten  _ that _ dark yet.

Could he not see you very well, or, at all?

You gingerly stepped back, finding a large lump under your right foot. You glanced down to see it was a rock and an idea began to form. Quickly, you scooped it up and throwing it against a tree that was just across from him, opposite of where you are. He snapped towards that area, faltering when he realised it was a rouse.

He turned back, but you were already bounding to him. Keeping your feet as steady on the ground as you could; holding the free hand in front of your chest.

You delivered the knife diagonally across him, opening a shallow gash on his chest. It may have been deeper if not for the layers of clothing. His once creased features now spread in shock. You pushed out an exhale and dove at him, aiming square on his heart.

But this didn’t go as planned. Jeffery managed to step to the side in time and smack the blade from your hand, landing a muffled thud on fallen leaves. The injured shoulder had slowed you down much more than anticipated. You winced from the effort. Jeffrey took the opportunity and kicked you back with a muddy sneaker. You were once again flattened on your back.

Jeffery got down on all fours, crawling over you like a shade with a slow, breathy snicker. Sounding both thrilled and relieved. “Ha! Ha!” he panted between each laugh. “You little cunt. You actually had me going there for a minute.”

His face was now completely level with yours. Destroyed face looming over you as he locked your wrist together above your head. You squirmed in an attempt to weaken his grasp.

Everything in you cringed.

“You shouldn’t have been so nosy. Shoulda kept walking but no, you had to get into my business, so now I’m going to put you to sleep.”

You scoffed.  

“Why? Afraid I’d tattle?”

“Tattle? Please, I’m not a kid,” He jeered.

Unblinking, unfocused, he strained to see your face. His eyes trailed down, lingering on your chest. His gaze felt heavy. His breathing became shallow and quick, a thin piece of drool leaking from his bottom lip. He wriggled your wrist so it was held by one hand. The other tracing your face, down your neck, and ghosting along your waist. You shivered. It’s beyond nauseating being touched by this kid.

“You’re not that much older than me, are you?” he muttered.

Jeffery coughed from the wound on his chest, but he didn’t seem to care about it. He was much more occupied on…something else.

He moved closer to your face until he’s straddling your hips. You watch him slink over you, like a wild dog readying to bit the neck of its prey. His leathery skin rubbing against your cheek. A silent cry held within you but it couldn’t seem to escape. Tears arose in the outer corners of your eyes. You could hear him inhale in your ear.

“This scent…” he breathed.

Oh no. you couldn’t take the disgust of his closeness any longer. You tucked your feet under his and lifted your knee to his bottom. Using the leverage to swing your hips to one side, taking Jeffery with you, situated between his legs. You rolled on top of him, successfully trapping him with each wrist seized by his shoulders.

“Listen, Jeffery. I didn’t spend a years getting self-defense training just to be taken by a skinny white boy with a steak knife,”

“Ho-ly shit! It’s Jeff!” He spat.

“Don’t care.” You clenched your body tighter to him.

“I’m gonna be clear, you’re an asshole and I’m going to make sure you get caught tonight.”

Jeff just stared. Something felt off.

“Did you hear me? Or is your hearing as bad as your eyesight?”

“Yeah, I heard you. God, I can’t stand your voice,” he growled.

The area below his eyes twitching like he was under some great discomfort. However, it couldn’t have been from you. If it was, the rest of his body would be tense but it was relatively still. Well, except for…?

          You did a double-take at his groin. Is he getting hard at this? Does he have some sort of scolding kink?

“You aroused by this, Woods?”

Jeff attempted a smirk and crinkled an eye.

“And if I am?” he challenged.

You reeled your shoulders back at this revelation. He seemed to notice this. A low chuckled emitting from him. You felt a pulse course within him from his wrist in your hands. His breathing grew heavier once again.

          Jeffrey locked his legs around your waist, squeezing his thighs together as tight as he could, ankles digging into your hips. You hollered at the pain. Jeff gave a gravelled, villainous laugh as he began to grind himself against your belly. You felt your grip weaken with each bounce.

“So what now, smart ass.”

He bucked as high as his hips would go, bouncing you along.

“Can’t let go of my hands, can ya? Can’t try to move out of it. You’ll just pleasure me more!” Blaring laughter erupting, each piercing note a mock to you.  

He’s right. You did try to wriggle out but he just lifted his groin closer, rubbing. Not only that but the position his legs are in is one of the strongest holds you can have. There is actually a way to get out of this grip, but doing so would just continue this cycle of rolling over and topping. You’re going to have to lower his defences totally in order to win this. Thankfully, horny teenage boys are easy to weaken.

“Pleasure, huh. Well alright. You got me. I’m pinned” you rasped through trying pants. “I’ll pleasure you then.”

He eyed you in excited confusion. Roughly, with as much force as you could, you brought his wrist into one grip across his stomach. With your free hand, you unbuttoned his dress pants, clumsily unzipping it and reaching into his briefs. Jeff’s laughter fading when he realised what you’re up to.

          You reached down into his pants and took a light hold of his crotch. Jeffrey froze at the intimate contact. You smirked down at him, sliding the tip of your tongue along your lip. You began to massage the firm bulge in his briefs. He let out a strange sort of excited wheeze. You increased pressure. The cloth was already starting to moisten. It seemed too early to start precumming.

“Tell me, are you a virgin, Jeffy?” you tried your best to ask in a soft coo. He darted his eyes to the side.

“Oh like you aren’t,” he grumbled.

“Please, you’re not the first one I’ve played with.” This was easier than you thought. Slowly, you pulled down the elastic band to reveal his unimpressive penis. ‘Well, at least he’s dropped.’

This was easier than you thought. Slowly, you pulled down the elastic band to reveal his unimpressive penis. ‘Well, at least he’s dropped.’

You mentally kicked yourself a little for that thought. Geez, he’s only two years younger than you not five.

You pulled his pants just below his hips and levelled the briefs with them to give better leverage. He shivered with this, penis rising steadily before your eyes.

          You took a breath to brace yourself and started to delicately run a forefinger up the sensitive underside of the shaft. Jeff groaned, his under eyes creasing. You continued to rub the bottom of his length, working up a steady pace before enclosing it in your fingers, pumping your hand backward and forwards. It was unsurprising to find him uncircumcised, so you carefully pulled back the foreskin and swirled the tip with your forefinger. His panting intensifying in time with your movements, he was getting wetter and losing himself more into ecstasy. This is disgusting, but it might be a good time to try an escape.

          You propped yourself on your knees, shimmying your hips gently upwards as to not raise suspicion. He didn’t seem to notice.

So far so good.

You clenched your gut to force out a fake moan for good measure. Just as his legs slipped from you, he brought them back up and squeezed tighter than before. You gasped, releasing his dick and pounded his knee with your fist out of frustration.

“Nah-uh. Nice try.” He jeered. “You should keep going though. I like that a lot.”

He poked his tongue out from the corner of his gash, sliding it across his mouth to the other side of the cut. You frowned in repulsion. Okay, time to try something else.

“Oh,” You purred, “I think I know something you’ll like better.”

You brought down your knees again to a lower position. “Come here, Jeff. I want you to see this,” you commanded, yanking up the front of his hoodie so he was in full view. 

The injury on his chest agitated from the abrupt movement and coughed into your hair. Your shoulder was also beginning to throb, you didn’t care. Fluttering your eyes demurely at him, you dropped your mouth down to his slick penis.  

          You gave a small lick to the tip, looking up at him through your lashes. His mouth hung open and eyes concentrated on you. You took him in inch-by-inch, easily having his whole shaft in your mouth. The salt of the precum coating your mouth like a cheap candy. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to gag at this situation.

Bracing yourself, you began to slither your mouth in waves. Tongue pressing against the underside. Jeff then bucked into your face.

This caught you off guard making your teeth scraped the top of his dick, initiating a long and drawn moan from him. This would normally cause whoever you're blowing discomfort, but this weirdo seemed to like it. His back arched as you continued your suckling, hissing a muted “yes…”

His legs quaked around you, meaning he was probably going to cum soon. This would be your window of escape. Feeling his desperation growing, you licked the side of the dick, paying extra attention to the head. Whirling your tongue around in a figure eight. His body shook again.

Without warning, he came into your mouth, hot and bitter down your throat. Now is your time. As he crowed in orgasm, you bolted to your feet. His body slamming down to the earth. You stepped out of his ankles and tried to run out of the wood. You had only gotten two steps when Jeff grabbed your left ankle, almost tripping you.

“Where do you think you’re going, cunt,” he shouted as spit flew from his cuts.

His hair tousled from sweat and leaves. Jizz leaking out onto his hoodie. You’re so done. This game of cat and mouse is ending right now.

“Don't call me that. But if you want it so bad…” you pulled down your bottoms and underwear, “Then here, eat it.”

You kicked off your clothes to the side and pushed Jeff back down with your foot. He stared up wide-eyed, straining to take in the sight.

          You knelt slightly with your knees on each side of his head, and firmly You rested your opening to his mouth. He tried to say something snarky but it muffled in your thighs. You rocked your hips in short soft bursts. He tried to lift his shoulders to push you up, but you squeezed his face between your legs. His cheeks were swollen and squishy from the infection in the cuts, the scabs scratchy on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You were so caught up in your life-or-death escape that you hadn’t realised how hard you had grown during the blowjob. His red lips and extended grin feeling hot and wet beneath you. This was becoming…exciting.

“I know you can’t move your mouth too much from how bad you fucked your face up, but please. Try your best.”  

You felt him tremble in elation, shifting into a stable position below you. His tongue extended out to lick in and around your cavity. You swayed your hips faster. He was beginning to strain for breath as he dug his bitten nails into your leg. You clicked your teeth in disappointment and propped yourself on your feet ever so slightly to allow for air. Doesn’t hurt being a little kind sometimes. However, doing this accidentally revealed a very sensitive spot of yours.

          Jeffery took advantage on sight. Attacking it viciously with his tongue. Attempting as best he could to suck the rosy flesh. In truth, it was enough to send waves of pleasure through you. Probably because you were already vulnerable from arousal.

You grabbed a handful of his matted black hair and let out a deep sigh, humping his face even faster. You could hear Jeff grunting as he kneaded your butt. This wasn’t enough.

“Alright Jeffery listen up,” you decreed in a breathy voice. “I’m going to fuck you and if you dare try anything stupid I will snap your neck between my thighs.”

“Why should I? Having ass in my face is what I’ve always wanted.”

“Because if I climax, so do you. And besides. Wouldn’t you like to say you’ve gone inside?”

He fell silent for a moment.

“Fine, but I’m still killing you after.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You lifted yourself from his face and made your way down his body. His nose and lips were splashed with your juices. Slowly and steadily you shifted on all fours, aligning yourself up with his erection. Feeling the tip touch your rim, you immediately eased your way on it. Luckily he isn’t very big so it didn’t take much adjusting. Jeff heaved a loud groan as your intimate areas connected.

          Slowly, you bobbed down on him, taking the full length inside at each dip. Every push increasing with speed. It had been a while since you’ve done anything like this, so all the tension that you had held knotted, and began to unravel.

Wanting to feel more you lifted yourself back up. Jeff propped himself on his elbows to watch as you slammed your body down again with more force. Allowing the rush of lust to spread; your back arched as you leaned your head back with a sigh. He fell back again, burying his face in the shoulder of his hoodie.

You began bouncing in a rough, sporadic pace. The lewd, wet sounds of sloshing fluids filling the woods around you. Jeffery grunting in time to your recoils. By luck, you had felt him brush your g-spot and moaned out as a tremor shook through you.

You taking care to angle him so he would keep hitting that spot, Jeff bucked up twice, as if to see what would happen. You flushed as heat ran through you, feeling every part of you melt. You aren’t going to last much longer. Jeffery clawed at the ground and thrust his hips upwards into you again, the lustful slapping of skin making you lose control. feeling yourself shake once more you came hard and fast on his dick. You steadied yourself on his flat stomach and rode out your orgasm. You felt Jeff quake. He was going to cum soon himself again.

Knowingly, you gave yourself some last few bounces before pulling yourself off just as he ejaculated with a gravely howl. The fluid dripped on your thigh, the smell of your collective releases soiling the air left you in a haze. You both stayed panting for a moment, a pleasant exhaustion settling over you.

But stillness was interrupted by police sirens not far from where you were.

You sat frozen, your eyes widening. This was not exactly the way you wanted to be found.

Hastily, you reached for Jeff’s knife and pressed it down against his throat. Jeff seeming to regain some of his hardness.

“Okay Jeff, this is what’s going to go down. You’re going to get caught right now and that’s final. End of story. But look, if you work with me and actually help yourself a bit, I could make sure you stay out of prison and into a mental institution to get the help you obviously need.” 

Jeff pursed his lips.

“Frick you I don’t need help! What difference does it make to you anyway?”

“Because I can’t stand to see someone who needs help not get it. Currently, you’re a cruel little shit and prison would just make you worse. You’ll just fester in solitary confinement. At least if you get treated, you’ll have a chance,” Hushing your voice in fear of the policing hearing and investigating this area.

Jeff’s nose creased in thought. The muffed voices of the police officers echoing through the street. The glow of blue and red from the sirens flashing on his face. The conflict swirling almost visibly in his eyes. He let out a slow exhale.

“Fine. I’ll get out sooner in the snake pit than in prison anyway. Then I can do whatever I friggin’ want. And plus, I better get more ass out of this,” disfigurement causing him to slur once again.

He’s more of a dumbass than you thought.

“Yup that’s what’ll happen. Now get your pants on your dick is making me sick,” you said, swinging your leg around to get off.

“That’s not what you said a minute ago,” he heckled as he pulled up his briefs.

“I didn’t say anything about your limp penis.”

You searched your pockets for tissues to clean yourself up and put your clothes back on. As soon as you finished you poised the knife at his back, making sure to poke him a little with it so he understood your threat. Jeff sighed indignantly as he finished buttoning his pants.

“Ready?”

“You best keep to your word, bitch,” a childlike fear staining his voice, his profanity an obvious cover.

“I promise.”

          Jeff eyed you one more time before turning towards the police cars. You poked his back again to signal him to walk and he obliged, putting his hands up. The two of you emerged from the woods. The officers on the other side were too busy investigating the house, so they didn’t notice you at first.

“Hey!” You called. A cop with a clipboard shuffled over to you.

“What are you kids-” He began, before fully taking in Jeff’s face. “You-you’re the-” Jeff rolled his eyes.

“This better be worth it,” he muttered under his breath.

The officer alerted another standing on the lawn just as he noticed the knife in your hand. His partner rushed over while the cop in front of you put Jeffery in handcuffs. It felt so satisfying to see. The other cop took out his walkie-talkie to alert those inside before turning to me.

“Put your weapon down and put your hands above your head,” He ordered, moving his hand towards his gun.

You said nothing and complied, setting the knife down on the trunk of a nearby car. Roughly, he grabbed your wrist and snapped them into handcuffs.

“What happened?” he asked you.

“I-I was taking a jog when I passed that house and saw him kill the man inside,” you stated, making sure to keep your voice steady, “But he saw me and chased me into the woods over there. We…fought, but I gained the upper hand and lead him over here when I saw you guys.” The officer raised an eyebrow.

“You fought this guy?” he said in surprise, pointing his thumb at Jeff as he reached into the car for what looked like a first aid kit. You shrugged.

“Wasn’t that hard.”

The officer chuckled at your simple response. You looked over at Jeff, he’s already getting treated. His shirt pulled up to bare the gash across his thin, bird-cage chest. The cop treating him trying to talk to him about something, but Jeff isn’t listening.

“Mind if I take your jacket off to look at your shoulder?” The officer asked.

You nodded and lifted your chin to make it easier to unzip your jacket. He slipped it off partly over your injured shoulder and leaned the neck of your shirt to expose the wound. He put on gloves and wet a cotton ball with antiseptic.

“Where do you live?” he asked gently, dabbing the swab over your cut.

“Just up the road. But my mom isn’t home, and my sister’s at work.”

“No one else in your house?”

“No.”

You winced as the medicine hit a particularly deep spot. The officer finished and stuck a large bandage over it. “Thank you,” you murmured softly, the cop adjusting your clothing back.

“No problem. We’re going to have to take you to the station though.” He opened the car door and led you inside by the arm. “C’mon.”

          You slid into the back seat, trying t adjusting your seating to accommodate your handcuffs. All the exhaustion from the struggle seemed to fall on you at that moment. The cop took a while longer talking with the officer who had spoken with the walkie-talkie before coming in.

“Got a number we can reach your mom at?”

“Yeah. I’ll give it to you at the station.”

You saw him nod in the rear-view mirror. A car in front of him started up and began driving down the street, your car following. Your lids were becoming heavy with fatigue. There was silence for a while before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t get over that you went toe-to-toe with Jeff the killer.”

“Is that what they’re calling him? With all due respect sir, he’s only a thirteen-year-old boy. Any full-grown adult could’ve taken him.”

You tried to focus your eyes on the windshield trying to stay awake.

“Yeah, but he’s a fast little bastard,” he chuckled.

“True. But that’s all he really has going for him though.”

The car fell into silence once again. You continued to try to focus on the car in front of you. Your tired eyes making out the silhouette in the back seat but you were too spent.

“It’s okay kid,” the office spoke softly.

“Just go to sleep.”   
  



	2. He’s just a poor boy from a (not so) poor family

The car hummed as it sped down the highway towards the penitentiary where Jeff is being held. You sat in the passenger’s seat with your hands folded relaxed, trying to concentrate on the passing view to distract yourself from your mother's irritated mood.  

“I just don’t understand why you are trying so hard for this kid.” She began for the fifth time that car ride.

“Mom, I already told you. I made a promise to him. He’s just a dumb kid who needs help, okay.” Your hands tightened in your lap.

“This isn’t some bad boy phase, is it? Because if it is, you should really think about it before you ruin your life for some jackass who you’ll have leave later.”

“Ew. Bad boy? Like I would get that carried away in a weird phase. Even if I did, he definitely would not be my first choice.”

“Well whatever the reason is, you should just leave him alone and let the state take care of it. And what’s worse is you're forcing your sister to spend all of the money she worked for, on an attorney I told you not to get.”

“Hey, it was her choice to do that. She suggested it and got the attorney herself. I didn’t make her,” you defended, it’s true though.

“She hadn’t really been working for that long and now you’re going to have her throw all her money away on some crazy little shit.”

“You’ve already mentioned that, mom.”

She always gets so frazzled when she’s worried. Although, the night you met Jeff was worse.

   When you returned from the police station, your mom and sister were almost in hysterics on the drive home. Asking nonstop questions almost every second of the ride. “Did he hurt you?” “Did he say anything weird to you?” “He didn’t try to touch you, did he?” Of course, you answered ‘no’ to these, but naturally, your mother wasn’t going to let it go so fast.

“I always thought you would go out jogging too late. He didn’t try to, you know, force himself or anything?”

“No mom. He didn’t.”

Your sister had stayed relatively quiet until you both went to your shared room. After changing and finally, truly easing all tension, she turned to you, face solemn.

“So. What happened. Really.”

She normally wasn’t so serious, but she knows you well enough to know something was off. You turned away from her gaze.

“I already told you. And mom.”

“Oh please. Like you would tell mom or the police everything.”

You snickered at this. Of course, you wouldn’t.

“I just want to know what happened.” She pleaded gently. You felt you had no choice but to comply and took a breath.

“I…made a promise to him. I was jogging, and I saw him stab someone. I called for help but he caught me and dragged me off.”

You brought your knees to your chest. Remembering what he attempted with you made your stomach churn. Your sister opened her mouth to say something but decided against it.

“We ended up fighting and, I don’t know, he just looked so stupid and pathetic. I ended up promising to him that I’d get him into a mental institution and keep him out of prison.”

You sat in silence. “So, what do you think about it?”

Your sister looked down to her lap in thought and ran a hand through her hair. Her eyes darting.

“Geez, I mostly just don’t know why you would care so much, I mean, he’s only thirteen and he’s killed a lot of people in only a two-week time span.”

“I know. He’s an ass, there is absolutely no excuse for what he’s done. But I can’t ignore someone who is obviously not well. Someone who self-harmed so drastically has to have something else going on. I mean, did you see his mug shot?”

“Yeah that was a mug shot alright,” she confirmed, nose scrunching in abhorrence.

“Exactly. His face is so fucked it’s barely functioning and his eyesight is shit. He kept stumbling around the forest area like he couldn’t see me. His eyes look weird at that; you saw the picture. He’s just going to fester in solitary confinement. Sure it works for some people, but not for him. He’ll just get worse.”

Your sister paused again, taking some time to think, she shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed.

“You know the court won’t like him very much. They’re gonna jump on the life sentence for him.”

“No, it’s the jury that won’t like him.”

“Well smarty, either way, you’re going to need a really good attorney and good attorneys are expensive.” You cringed at this reminder.

“Are you going to work part time to pay it off?” she pushed further.

“I guess. You can start working part time at fifteen, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you doing that. I want you to focus on school and have fun.”

She ran her hands through her hair again, biting her lip in deliberation.

“I’ll tell you what,” she began, “I’ll pay for it. I have a little bit saved and it should cover it.”

“Oh and what? Leave you with a dollar?” you teased, receiving a short giggle from her.

“I’ll have more than a dollar. Just focus on school, okay.”

You smoothed out the clump of blankets on your bed and settled in. Your sister adjusting her pillows and plush around her.

“I wonder what my friends are going to say about this. Will they even find out?”

“Not unless you tell them, or your name is released to the press.”

   Blinking a few times, you saw the penitentiary come into view, the large square building like a tucked-a-way keep box of nasty deeds. Your mom sighed as she parked the car.

“I’m not trying to give you a hard time, I’m just worried. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She took off her seat belt, taking a deep breath, trying to hold back any further argument.

“It’ll be alright mom,” you reassured her as you stepped out of the car. It did seem to ease her. But you couldn’t necessarily do the same for yourself.

   The penitentiary is small, you took a second to fully absorb the building before passing through the entryway in the tall concertina wire-topped fence around the jail. You give a last wave and to your mom; which is only given a worried glance in return, before stepping through the metal detector. Afterwards, you get frisked by the stationary guards; their manner is severe but not rude and you get the impression that as long as you immediately do exactly what they say it goes smoothly, but that any hesitation or resistance might invite rougher treatment.

You give your name, then are ushered into a relatively large room along with a few others. The room is divided by a large half brick half Plexiglas wall with stools bolted to the floor. Prisoners in daffodil-colored jail garb emerge on the other side, a guard told you they’ll bring Jeff out in a moment.

You sat down on the worn black stool in front of a counter. The wall is lined with telephones every few feet with a shallow divider between them to allow some privacy for visitors. You had only been sitting a few minutes before Jeff was brought out with two security guards holding each arm, his eyes fixated on you from behind the glass, catching you in his stare.  

He seemed cleaner than the last time you saw him. Probably forced him to shower. Sure, he looked less greasy, but that yellow jumpsuit is not doing him any favours, the unnatural colour making him look even paler somehow. His face is more cleaned up too, cuts already looking less infected but also more open since the swelling had gone down, his teeth now glistening from behind. They shoved him down onto the seat across from you and told him something that you couldn’t hear. Jeff nodded, keeping his watch on you and picked up the phone. You broke from your trance when he tapped on the glass. You shook your head to refocus yourself and answered the phone.

“Hi,” he greeted smugly, tapping the glass again. You snickered and replied sharply.

“Hi.”

“Miss me? I sure thought about you all night.” His tone irritatingly mocking, finishing his sentence with a swipe of his tongue from one end of his Glasgow grin to the other.

“As if. I just wanted to check up on you. How is it in there?”

“Pretty fun actually. I got my own room after I told my bunk mate the details of my first home invasion, a family of four. Weird though, that’s not even my worst.” You shuddered.

“You’re awful. I’m glad he got away from you.”

He chuckled darkly at this.

“Aw, I’m flattered. So, do you remember your promise? This place is cool and all but I might get itchy after a while if you know what I mean.”

“Of course I didn’t forget. My sister is already working on an attorney for you.”

“Oh really?” Jeff chuckled as he took this in, laughing louder, his shoulders shaking in glee. “I’ll get out a’ here faster than I thought! And you best believe I’ll be coming around for your ass again too! So start stretching, doll face!”

Jeff chuckled as he took this in, laughing louder, his shoulders shaking in glee. “I’ll get out a’ here faster than I thought! And you best believe I’ll be coming around for your ass again too! So start stretching, doll face!”

Your eyes narrowed and vision blurred as a rage made blood rush to your head. His growing laughter almost audible from behind the glass. Standing out of your chair and leaning towards the glass, tilting the phone close to your mouth.

“Jeffrey Dahmer, I’m trying to help you! If you’re going to continue talking like this to me, I am going to walk out. Promise be damned! I will leave you to the state and let your carcass rot in solitary like you actually deserve. So, calm. Your. Ass. Down!”

Your palm stung as banged your hand on the counter. His laughing subsided.

“You wouldn’t. That’s the only reason I let you catch me, so I can get a good laugh out of cheating the system and escaping. Bitch, if you leave me in here, I will escape on my own and find you. I got a pretty good idea of where you live.”

The officers at his sides turning towards him in alert as his voice raised. You gritted your teeth at his words.

“I told you, I can help, but you have to be willing to fix yourself some. So, you better think long and hard on it in your lonely cell, then we’ll see how you feel next time I visit. If, I visit,” you shouted, slamming the phone back onto the hook and stormed to the exit. The officer shook his head in disapproval at Jeff before opening the door for you, the sounds of him banging on the glass thudding behind you. You didn’t look back.

   You didn’t want to talk the whole way home. You mother kept trying to ask what was wrong or what happened, but you just insisted that you were tired and nothing had happened. When you got home your sister was sitting in bed with her laptop.

“What’s up?” she greeted casually. You flopped on your bed, the spring squeaking under you.

“Not much. Went to visit that kid today. Ugh, he’s such an asshole.”

“Oh yeah? What’d he do?”

“Just talking like a dick. He thinks I owe him something and honestly I’m not sure how much I want to help him.”

She looked up from her laptop and cocked an eyebrow.

“Why? You were so determined before.”

“I don’t know. Actually, no, it’s because I was reminded how much of a cold killer he is. When I went to see him, I tried just asking how he was doing and he started talking to me like I was beneath him right from the get-go. You’d think he’d be at least a little grateful.”

“Well, I guess he wasn’t going to just quietly follow instructions and bend to you. He’s lost a lot of his sense by the sounds of it.”

You paused. Of course, you never expected him to just go along like a complacent puppy, but you thought he would have at least taken your efforts more seriously. Maybe this guy truly is without feeling, and you’d be going through all this effort just to let a convict escape. If he just moved on to hurt more people and you’d be partially responsible.

On the other hand, learning a new behavioural mindset takes time, and maybe expecting him to change at this point is too soon. If he’s given the second chance, he could just live the rest of his life without causing any trouble, and being more fulfilled in the end.

“Am I making a bad choice?”

“I don’t know. That’s for you to decide, and honestly, you have to think about what’s important to you. You’re dealing with someone’s life now. You’ll have to protect him in a lot of hard situations, and you should think whether you’re ready to do that. You don’t want to go through the rest of your life thinking if there was a better of handle the situation and regret anything. I mean, just look at mom.”

You chortled a little at this, but the analogy gave you a bit of different insight. But at the end of the day, is it more about protecting the person because they need it? Or is it more about fighting for your own beliefs?

“I think I get what you’re talking about. So, what are you doing right now?”

“I was going to talk to you about that actually. So, I’ve been looking around and I found this one person named, Ray. She got her attorney's license recently, so there’s no guarantee how the trial will turn out, but she’s also cheaper because of her lack of experience. So I thought I’d ask her to pick up the case.”

“What’d she say?”

“She’s not too sure about how good of a job she’ll do, but she’ll give it a shot. I’m looking stuff up about it to help her out,” she explained, swirling her finger in front of the computer screen. You shot up on your knees in the bed.

“Really, she’ll do it?!” Your sister giggled at your excitement.

“It’s not for sure yet. We still gotta talk about price and stuff. But so far, so good.”

Finding an attorney this fast was a stroke of good luck! It could be a sign to continue forward with Jeff.

   The next day, your sister was able to set up a meeting with the lawyer. Guess being new they had enough time on their hands. You were both already seated at Eunomia Café with your drinks when the attorney finally showed up.

“Sorry if I’m late. The subway was delayed.”

She spoke in a light jersey accent, standing slightly above average height, and looking about in her late twenties. Neat, rimless square glasses coming out from short wavy hair dyed a greyish blonde. She pulled out a chair across from you and set her black satchel on the floor by her feet.

“How are you guys?”

“We’re fine. This is my sibling; they’ll be speaking in this case.” Your sister introduced you in a friendly tone. Ray turned to you with a pleasant smile.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ray Cabana.”

She reached her hand out and you held out yours, bringing them together in a firm handshake. She leaned down to her bag to take out a lavender notebook and readjusted to an upright position. She clicked her pen and scribbled something before looking back to you.

“So, let’s start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

You paused, gathering yourself before retelling what had happened that night of your encounter with Jeff in as much detail as you could remember. Of course, leaving out the fact you two had sex.

Ray went on to ask what your goals were for this case and your reasoning.

“My main goal for this case is just to get him institutionalised. Prison would just make him worse and knowing him, he’ll try to kill every cell mate he gets. I think it’ll be better for himself and others.” You tried your best to make sure the conviction translated into your voice. Ray tapped her pen and pursed her lips.

“Mm…Don’t think that I don’t believe in what you’re saying-I do. But you do understand that even if he goes for treatment, he may not necessarily function in society. He may need someone to look after him afterward.”

“I guess that makes sense, but won’t the hospital assign him someone for a while?”

“Uh…no. No, I don’t think so. Someone’s going to have to offer to do that on their own.”

You sat for a moment, processing what this would mean.

“But, he doesn’t have anybody. His parents are dead and who knows where his brother is.” A sense of panic was beginning to wash over you. Everything seemed to vibrate.

“I know, I read the article,” Ray said calmly.  You took a sip of your drink in an attempt to settle your nerves.

“Am I…going to have to look after him?”

Ray held strong eye contact with you as she nodded her head.

“Most likely.”

The table fell silent. Your sister looked back and forth between you and Ray.

“Does it have to be them, though? I figured this might happen, but is there maybe another way around it?” She questioned. Ray sighed.

“I don’t think so. Yes, they will send someone to check on him every so often and he’ll see a therapist monthly, but he's still going to always need someone there. As far as I can tell, your sibling is the only one who really cares.” She explained to your sister.

You know for a fact the mental institutes in this state too low-funded and too understaffed to have someone watch him all day. It would have to be you to take care of him.

“For how long?” you pried, a glimmer of hope this wasn’t such a permanent thing.

“It depends on him, but probably the rest of his life.”

The rest of his life? Being about the same age does that mean the rest of your life? Are you prepared to take this on? Your first thought was if you're ready for this. The thought seemed to stay stuck in your mind, for the rest of my life? Your sister had prepared you last night for this sort of question, though you hadn’t realised it at the time. Is this important enough for you to keep fighting for? Your body shivered one last time before a sense of conviction steadied you. Fuck it, you have to You made a promise, you can't let someone that needs help not receive it, just because you can't step up. And you can't just abandon him after the trial, or even after he gets released, you already took this on. Not only for him, for your own principles too.

“I understand. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

   That Friday, you had arranged another meeting with Jeffery. The standing officer is the same from your first visit. He looked to be almost surprised to see you, but said nothing about it, and lead you back to the visitation area. Jeff came out much sooner this time, shuffling ahead of the guards to plop down onto the seat and scrambled for the phone.

“Finally! Get me out right now. I swear they put me in a smaller cell when I was sleeping! it’s closing in on me as I sleep. The cell is getting smaller. I-I can’t breathe. T-T-talk to them! It’s too cramped. I’m too cramped. Talk to them right now and get me the biggest cell. I-I want the cell with the most space. Right this fricking Now!” He sputtered violently into the receiver, panting and sweating as he stood, banging his fist on the glass. The guards grabbed each of his shoulders and forcibly pushed him back onto the chair.

“Jeffery, there is no way they could’ve moved you while you were sleeping.”

“How do you know! They coulda slipped something in my water and moved me because they knew I wouldn’t like it.”

“Jeff, even if that was the case you would notice a different cell after meal times or whatever.”

He stared intently, shallow breathing beginning to ease. His eyes filled with anger and fear as they tried to intimidate you, but you aren’t budging.

“Jeff, are you claustrophobic, or have paranoia?” He squared his shoulders, releasing his gaze.

He squared his shoulders, releasing his gaze.

“You said I’d be out soon.”

“It’s been a week since you were arrested. It’ll take time. You have to be patient and trust me.” He sat for a moment, tapping the counter.

“You’re going to talk to them about the cell, right?”

“I’ll do it on my way out.” He nodded and turned to face you again.

“So do they have a court date or whatever?”

“No. I just got an attorney and the state is just starting to get organised.”

He just nodded again. The line fell silent, his breathing rumbling softly like far off waves through the phone. Looks like he not going to talk anymore.

“I’ll get going then.”

“Fine. Leave me in here, just don’t forget okay.”

With that, he hung up the phone. The guards stood on each side of him to escort him out. You hung up the phone and started to make your way out, but a familiar weight ghosting over the back of your neck stopped you. You looked back to catch Jeff, watching you from over his shoulder as the cop unlocked the door.

   The next Monday, you and your friends were having lunch at a Panera Bread that’s about a block from your school. You’ve been texting everything that’s happened, but after you told them your decision to continue to fight for Jeff, their texts of encouragement slowed. They’ve been quiet the whole day so far, the booth uncomfortably silent until Harris spoke.

“So…Taylor, what’d you do this weekend?” she asked, mindlessly poking her fork at her empty bowl. Taylor shrugged at the question.

“Not much. Babysat.”

“Yeah, that’s…cool. Not as busy as others I guess.”

You shot a glare at her, but she pretended not to notice.

“Got something to say?” You challenged. Deciding not to avoid the subject any longer, Harris exhaled sharply.

Deciding not to avoid the subject any longer, Harris exhaled sharply.

“Okay, honestly, did you fuck this guy or something? Cause nothing you’re doing right now makes any sense.” You nearly choked on your drink at the abrupt question.

“What! Wh-why would you think that? That’s nasty!” you blurted, grabbing a napkin to dab your chin.

“Then why the hell would you be visiting him in prison? Only brainwashed girlfriends visit the prison.”

“Okay first, He’s not in prison, he’s in holding. Completely different. Second, I’m helping him out so he can get better, cause he clearly mentally ill.”

“So’s Jasper, but he’s not burnin’ people up,” Harris shouted, half standing up while gesturing to your cringing friend. Jasper looked away almost immediately.   

“Harris, you need to calm down. You’re making a scene in the got-damn Panera,” Taylor scolded.

“Sorry, but they’re not listening to me,” Harris apologised; slumping back down and crossing her arms before addressing you again.

“He’s an asshole and deserves any punishment he’s got coming. He’s not your problem to deal with and you don’t have to dedicate yourself to this lost cause. So what if he gets worse or whatever-the-fuck? Solitary confinement was built for his kind, and he’ll just stay there forever. Outa’ sight, outa’ mind.”

“You’re right. I agree. But please, apologise to Jasper. You know he doesn’t like these kinds of confrontations,” You retorted. Harris sighed.

“Sorry for getting loud, Jazz.” He gave a small, ‘No prob’,’ in acceptance.

“Harris,” you began, “I think he should receive some punishment too. I’ve seen his crimes first hand and fought for my life against him, but like I told you before, I just want to get him institutionalised. Then I’ll take it from there.”

“Oh, so now you’re fuckin’ superman. He may be a scrawny middle schooler, but he’s still dangerous.”

“Harris please, I can beat him easily.”

Harris snickered and rolled her eyes.

“Oh, look at me I’m a Mary Sue who took some self-defense courses at the rec center now I can take on any deranged lunatic! Golly gee there’ll be no tomfoolery as long as I’m around, uwu,” Harris taunted in a squeaky voice.

“Harris shut the fuck up. I can do this.”

“Oh-ho so you know everything there is to know about taking care of somebody else, let alone keeping a maniac in check?”

“I’ll learn.”

Harris paused before speaking again in a calmer tone.

“Hey, I gotta tell you something, hear me out. You know that girl that got hurt when Jeff burned his house down? I knew her. Her name is Jane. We used to talk a lot online, and I remember her telling me about some kid across the street that was getting pushed around. I didn’t realise she was talking about Jeff the killer until I saw the news. She just wanted to help him too, giving him nice notes in his desk and shit like that. But you know what he did? he stabbed her and burned her alive. She’s missing right now.”

“Missing? I thought she was dead.”

“No! She’s been missing for the past few days. But her condition is so unstable, she might die just being out there for too long. I really liked her. Like, a lot. I was going to ask her out and maybe go see her.”

She fell quiet for a moment. You could almost feel the whole restaurant listening to Harris’s rant.

“Please, he already took someone close to me, and I don’t want him to hurt you too.”

Harris had never mentioned an online crush to you. Taylor and Jasper sat in the discomfort of the situation.  

“Do you still want to go through with this?” She questioned, a strange plea behind her voice.

“Yes, I do.”

Harris’s eyes widened as uncrossed her arms.

“You’re really serious about this.”

You nodded in response and said nothing else. She huffed out a few breathes, staring at you in disbelief.

“I…I just don’t want something to happen to you.” She looked down

“I’m sorry, Harris. But, this is something I have to do.”

Harris furrowed her brows and searched your face for any hint of uncertainty, but you stood fast. She heaved a final sigh and grabbed her bag, rushing out of the restaurant.

“I’m gonna go you guys. See you later.”

“Harris-” Taylor tried to call to her, but she was already halfway out.

You all stayed silent for a moment, in slight confusion and disbelief at the dramatics Harris just performed for everyone. Some seconds passed and lowered chatter from the surrounding people ebbed in again.

Jasper shifted his weight towards you, the unsteady feeling from him pushing over to you with this.

“Hey,” he called softly to get your attention. “You aren’t going to help that guy for very long, right?”

“No,” you answered. “It’ll only be for a little while.”

You lied.

   It had been some time before you would speak with the attorney again. This was your first time seeing her office, it looked like she had gathered up quite a bit of material for the case. Her desk an organised chaos of notes, books of various sizing mixed together on the shelf behind her. You told her about your last visit with Jeffery and his demands for a bigger cell. You had spoken with the guards about it, but of course, they said it was impossible, the only way is for him to be put under house arrest. Being that he has no family, he would have to stay in your home, but your mother would never allow that, understandably so. Ray asked if it was something you would consider doing but you weren’t sure. It would be good practice for when you have to live with him, though it would put them in danger. Ray understood your apprehension. After discussing the final details into organising your statements, schedules, and general approach to Jeff’s trial, It had gotten late before you even realised. Ray said goodbye and promised to call the night before to make sure everything was still ready. Though you swore you could’ve caught a mischievous glint in Ray’s eye.

   You were exhausted when you finally got home. The meeting with Ray took way longer than expected and you were hungry. Your sister had picked you up, but she was in a rush to get to her shift at work so you couldn’t pick up any food.

“Are you going to be okay not picking something up to eat?”

“It’s fine,” You reassured her, she pouted her lips and tilted her head in guilt.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you going hungry.”

“Yeah, I’ll make rice and an egg or something.” You took off your seatbelt as your house came into view. Your sister pulled into the driveway to let you out.

“Bye baby, I love you,” she shouted to you from the car window.

“Love you too.”

You waved at her as she backed up out of the driveway and into the street. The air was cold, prompting you to hurry to your porch and unlock the door.

“Mom, I’m back,” you called as you entered.

“I’m on the treadmill,” she answered from the spare room. Figures.

   Your stomach rumbled and decided you didn’t want to wait any longer. Passing by the dining room you noticed a duffle bag, two large safes, and a bag of bolt locks on the table. It’s odd, to say the least. Gotta remember to ask mom about that. You trudged lazily to the kitchen, but you were stopped dead in your tracks. The kitchen looked like a racoon had ransacked the place.

“Wha-”

You tiptoed through the discarded boxes and cans until you finally found the source. A small figure digging through your pantry.

“Jeff! What the fuck are you doing in my house!”

Jeff turned to face you, his eyes lit with pride.

“Hey, where you keep your peanut butter? All I found was almond butter. What the frick is almond butter?”

“We don’t eat peanut butter and what are you doing in my house.”

“I’m on house arrest. Your mom signed the forms this afternoon.” You were stunned.

“My mom?! There is no way. You must’ve pushed the facility to make this happen.”

Jeff laughed and stood up.

“Oh, believe it. Plus, doll face, I can go wherever I want. So what’d ya got to eat around here?”

   You couldn’t believe this. Your mother was so against you even breathing in Jeff’s space, yet here he is in navy sweats, black t-shirt, and blue canvas step-ins. God, he practically screams ‘I just got out of prison.’

“Don’t call me doll face. I’ll get you some food in a minute, but take your shoes off. Right now.”

Jeff tilted his head, squinting an eye.

“Why? They’re just shoes,” he stated, tapping the capped toe of the shoe on the fridge.

“Because you’re getting the floor dirty. Just leave ‘em by the door.”

Jeff hitched his breath in amusement, but gave in and went to the entrance to take his shoes off. You rubbed your temples in annoyance, heaving a sigh. ‘Why would mom do this,’ you whined in your head before getting to work cleaning the kitchen. As you bent to pick up a box of pasta, you felt a sharp slap on your ass, spinning around to see Jeff smirking. Oh no, he fucking did not! You picked up a small can of tomato paste, clobbering him on the side of the head with it.

“Jeffree Star, Do Not Ever do that again.” Jeff doubled in pain, cradling his head.

“You…frigging cunt…ow,” he growled.

“That’s what you get.”

You watched him crouch there for a minute before going back to cleaning. You were almost done but Jeff was still in the same position. Did he pass out? Nah, you didn’t hit him as hard as you would’ve liked to. You walked over to him and bent down to his level.

“Let me see,” you requested gently. Jeff leaned away from you.

“Jeff, I’m not playing games with you, I just want to see it.”

He paused before moving his hand. You moved his hair and found a decent sized red spot. “Guess I did give you a pretty good knot.”

You got a rag from under the sink and put a few ice cubes in the centre.

“Here. Now go sit down on the stool and I’ll make you some food.” Jeff looked at you angrily, finally deciding to take it and sat down, tucking his body away from your direction. You shook your head at his childish display.

   Going to the fridge you got out leftover rice and two eggs. You set them down on the counter next to the stove and opened the oven to pull out a pan.

“Why the heck do you have pans in the oven?” You had almost forgotten Jeff was there in the short time you weren’t looking at him.

“There’s no room in the cabinets.” You answered simply, turning on the stove and cracking an egg on the pan.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Just make room.”

“Come look for yourself.” Jeff didn’t seem like he wanted to move but his curiosity got the better of him.

“Why do you have so many pans?” You chuckled at his question, portioning the rice into bowls and placing them in the microwave with a damp napkin.

“It’s not that there’s too many pans, just not enough room in the cabinets. I’m almost done, you can sit.”

You slid the egg onto the rice as he sat back down on the stool and placed it in front of him. He looked down at it, his face frozen in a strange expression.

“What is this?”

“It’s just rice and a fried egg. Want a banana with it?”

“What, no. What the heck do I do with it?”

“Break it up with your spoon and mix it. I’m going to get some vics for your bump.”

“Vics?” he questioned, his voice breaking into a high pitch as he watched you reach into a nearby drawer. “Isn’t that for when you have phlegm or something?”

“It works for everything. Let me see your bump.”

He grumbled indignantly and lowered the ice pack from his head. You moved as much of the damp hair as you could from the spot and rubbed the minty salve to it.

“You really should watch yourself more. Hitting me with that can could mean some bad news.”

“Excuse me? What exactly do you think you're going to do to me, huh?”

“I didn’t say it was bad news for you.”

He curled his lips back in that same sadistic smirk he showed in the woods. Your fingers stopped. His eyes glinting up at you.

“Don’t you dare,” you couldn’t help the worry from quivering through your voice. He chuckled lowly.

“Keep me happy, and I won’t.”

Oh, how you wanted to whack him again with the can. Harder this time. You felt your stomach get heavy and your body cold chills washing over. You were putting your loved ones in danger after all. You felt so stupid and small for not taking that possibility more seriously. Sure, you could fight him off but what about your mother? Or your sister? They were both defenceless and don’t have any of the training you do. How could you bring such a time-bomb into your house? And here you are, rubbing salve in apology for something he clearly deserved. You gulped.

No. if you kept thinking this way he’ll just keep going further. You must keep him in check. You took a deep breath and rooted your feet.

“You should be careful your own self. Keep acting like this, and the jury will not let you go.” He chuckled again. Deeper.

“Don’t worry, I’m good at taking care of people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4NFzEW8rSWc  
> Harris is so teen istg


	3. Little High, Little Low

 

               The morning grogginess hadn't seem to hit very hard today, mornings, and the routines were typically associated with school and the subsequent, unfulfilling robotic rush. So being up so early during a weekend usually felt like a cardinal sin, but a certain amount of nonchalant satisfaction set the mood today. All of you were getting your usual morning foods, carelessly chatting away about events of yesterday and plans for that day. 

A jiggle of a door knob down the hall and rough push of the door silenced the kitchen. You had almost forgotten about him. Tension greeted as Jeffery walked into the kitchen, yawning dramatically. His mouth extending its full width, cheeks parting fully. Your mother and sister looked away from his splitting face.

“Close your face, you look like Kermit the Frog. Plus, one of your scabs cracked open,” 

You commanded. Closing the fridge with cranberry fruit cocktail in hand. Jeff snickered and closed his mouth, lazily flicking his hand over pinpricks of blood emerging on the corners of his wounds. Your family avoided all contact with him and he seemed to relish this. Purposefully standing behind them when they weren't paying attention or staring at them in random moments, aware of the menace his lidless eyes gave.

Most people would feel a little offended at a whole family having to lock all sharp, or potentially dangerous things into safes. As well as bolt locks on all doors, just to keep themselves safe from you. But no, it gave Jeff a strange sense of power to think he could be that terrifying. He would often rattle the doorknob when someone was in the shower, or at odd times of the night just to startle the person on the other side. He’s learned that because they’re already apprehensive of him, it doesn't take much to frighten them.

It was awful to see your family like this. But it’s only for a few days at a time. 

“What are you making me for breakfast? Toast? Cornflakes?” Jeff queried, sitting in the breakfast nook. 

He crinkled his eyes as your sister ducked out of the kitchen, avoiding eye contact while making her way to the shower. Your face tightened in frustration. 

“Get your own food. I am not your maid.”

“Aw, I bet you’d look great in a little maid uniform,” he jeered, snapping his fingers. “Make it happen.”

“Jerry, that’s enough, don’t talk that way to my kid.” Your mom intervened. 

Jeff rolled his eyes “Shut the frick up,” grumbling “I swear I’ll kill you in your sleep,” as he grabbed Cheerios, milk, and a bowl and spoon.

Jeff glared across the kitchen at you and your mother, muttering a “better watch it,” under his breath. You ignored that and sat down next to him with your own bowl of Cheerios. The sound of the shower stopped as you finished your food.

“Jeff, get in the shower. The attorney will be here soon and you have to make a good impression.” Jeff crinkled the bridge of his nose at you.

“Why? I’m clean.”

“You only say that because you can’t smell yourself. Go.”

“Why? I have no reason to listen to you. I’ve already talked to the attorney anyway.” Your mom looked up from her coffee cup, eyeing the two of you in unease.

“It doesn’t matter. You still have to keep a good image, especially in front of her.”

“Why? You said I only need to worry about the judge.” You locked eyes with him.

“Well, the judge can’t like you if you don’t have a good defence, right? And you need the attorney to make a good defence.”

“No,” he responded plainly, “I won’t do it.”

He stepped off the stool and around the counter towards you, keeping a predatory gaze. He got closer to you but your mother came between you.

“Jeffery, we’ve invited you into our home and put up with your little attitude. Now, we have things to do For You. Get in the shower.”

Jeff’s shallow nostrils flared at your mother. His colourless eyes flicking between your face and hers, his taut features easing back and bottom lip hanging to show his lower teeth in some sort of strange realisation.

“Fine,” he slurred, stomping out of the kitchen and into the bathroom.

           In the early afternoon, Ray arrived at the door with an armful of books and folders.

“Come in,” Your mom invited, leading her to the dining room table where you, Jeff and your sister are already settled. 

They sat down and Ray straightened her papers, clearing her throat and greeted everyone before beginning.

“Alright, I think the first thing we need to discuss is…Jeffery's defence. One of the first parts of the trial was an evaluation on how mentally sound he is and whether the court can trust his testimony. Jeffery and I already had a meeting on this. No offence to you, Jeffery but I do think they’ll find you criminally insane. Sorry.” Ray elaborated.

“Jeff,” he muttered, slumping in his seat as he focused on a pen in his hands.

“Pardon?”

“Just call me Jeff.” He twirled the pen faster between his fingers. Ray smiled before continuing.

“Of course, Jeff. Based the report we already compiled, when you are found insane, the court then decides if you are competent to try.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m probably smarter than the judge.”

“Well, It’s not whether you’re smart. It mostly means if your memory in reliable.” 

Jeff responded with a short, ‘Whatever’ and focused on his pen again.

“After that, the next step would normally be a bail hearing. But that isn’t applicable here because Jeff is a juvenile. What will happen tomorrow is the preliminary hearing. This is where you’ll make your official pleas. Guilty, not guilty, or no contest. Of course, we’ve already decided on pleading innocent by reason of insanity. Jeff’s competency will be considered at this hearing. I have also settled with the judge that there will be no jury.”

The table honed to Ray as she continued to describe each part of the case proceedings in detail. Your mother would occasionally bring drinks and small snacks to help everyone stay focused.

“So,” Ray continued, “The hard part will be what‘s called, the crown review. The evidence here is presented and witnesses called for questioning. Jeff, at this stage we need to sway the judge's opinion of you. Is there anyone you are particularly fond of? Someone you loved?”

           The pen in Jeff’s hand froze. His whole body seeming stiff at the unexpected question, breath halting for a moment before returning in a soft burst.

“Jeff?” you tried alerting him to break him out of his thoughts.

He didn’t respond, hunching over the table.

“Jeff. Do you have someone like that?” Ray asked again. He hung his head lower, forehead hovering just over the table.

“A brother. There’s a brother.” His words barely audible over his hair. Ray sat up in her chair.

“Tell me about him.” A sense of pride in her voice as though she had some great discovery in a cold case. 

Jeff’s shoulders tensed.

“I…I don’t have to tell you anything,” he growled. The corner of Ray’s mouth twitched. Not the hard break she wanted I guess.

“Jeff. You’ll have to tell the court about your brother. Trust me when I say it may be your saving grace.” Jeff eyed her from under his ragged bangs.

“I’ll say it then. I don’t have to say shit to you.”

“Jeffery, calm down,” you snapped. His eyes stayed trained on Ray. After a moment, he sighed, lifting his head back up.

“Whatever. I’ll talk in court. Are we done yet?” Ray nodded and began to gather her things.

“Yeah, I think we’re good. I’ll leave these notes for you all to go over when you have time.” 

She pulled out a thin binder and placed it at the centre of the table. She thanked your mother for allowing her to come in and talk, then left.

   The next morning the police arrived to pick up Jeff. It had been a struggle to get him to wear the khakis and navy polo. You had to admit, he looked pretty stupid but it’s part of the set he was given. And he needed to look presentable today for the preliminary hearing.

The officers came in to unlock Jeff’s tracking device before stuffing him in the car and driving off. Your mother sighed as she grabbed her car keys.

“Let’s get this over with,” she groaned.

“Mom, there’s still a lot more to go,” you reminded. She sighed again and got into her car with you to follow the cop.

           Where this hearing took place looked more like a large office building. Inside were three tables, one long table against the far wall, and two smaller tables standing centre, microphones placed atop the smaller, ensuring the judge would hear all statements clearly. Behind that was several other tables lined for witnesses and family members. But for this case, journalist dominated the seating, your mother, and sister now crammed elbow to elbow. Each participating person took their seat to assigned places. You, Jeff, and Ray sat at the defence table as a stream of primped old men filed in to fill the seats at the long table. When a stubbled man in a blue suit moved to the middle of the table, any low chatter in the room quieted.

“The court will begin under Judge Harvey. All rise.” 

All present stood while the man in the blue suit sat down. Everyone resumed their seats and the first flashes of cameras queued from the back seats.

“Today, we will be reviewing the case of Jeffery Alan Woods. He is charged with second-degree homicide, second-degree murder of Mr. Phillips, attempted assault, home invasion, armed criminal offence, and arson. Do you agree to these charges?” the judge read down Jeff’s impressive list in a plain voice. Although technically he should also have attempted sexual assault, but you would prefer to keep that a secret because of how that all ended.

“We agree to these charges,” Ray confirmed. 

The room teemed with the subsequent scratching of pens and the clicking of the court clerk’s keyboard. The noises faded off before the judge continued.

“Does the prosecution have any evidence to present?”

“Yes,” a middle-aged man with dark brown hair and receding hairline said, raising his hand as he spoke. “The prosecution would like to present the testimony of Mrs. Phillips to the murder of her husband and attempted assault of her child by the defendant. The files from the police investigation of the Woods home. An eyewitness testimony of a boy, whose family has requested his name stay anonymous, that had an encounter with the defendant. And the case files and hospital records of Jane Arkensaw.”

Jane? Isn’t that Harris’s friend? 

The judge nodded and scribbled on a page in front of him.

“Does the defence agree to this evidence?”

“Yes.”

“Does the defence wish to give any evidence?” Ray straighten her back.

“Yes. The defence would like to present the forensic psychiatric evaluation of the defendant, Jeffery Alan Woods. An account from a member of the defence group. And the testimony of the defendant.” 

The prosecutor looked down as he smirked to himself at our poultry amount of evidence, but Ray sat tall.

“Does the prosecution agree to the evidence?”

“Yes.”

The judge nodded again and continued to write on the document on his desk. The reporter’s cameras flashing slowed, the constant clacking of the shutters at your back started to build a tense knot in your belly.

“Would the prosecution present its first piece of evidence.”

“Certainly.” The prosecutor shuffled through his papers and pulled out a few documents before coming to the microphone.

“The first thing I would like to present is the police report of the night of Wood’s first delinquent act. Per the report, the house set on fire with his parents, Barbara and Peter Woods, along with several neighbours tied at the dinner table. They were stabbed repeatedly with what is believed to be an eight-inch knife. The second son, Lou, is now missing though blood was found in his bedroom.” 

Jeff’s left eye twitched. 

“It is likely that the defendant stabbed Lou as well before fleeing his home. However, there is not enough evidence of this to charge Woods of attempted murder.” Jeff’s eyes twitched again, grumbling something under his breath. “There is now an investigation for Lou-”

“Liu!” Jeff shouted. The judge and lawyer looking at him with the same twisted frowns and creased brows.

“Excuse me, Mr. Woods, you are not-”

“His name is Liu! L-ee-uu. It’s Chinese. The name’s Chinese!” 

The room fell silent at his outburst, then erupted into camera flashes and hushed excitement.

“Mr. Woods, if you speak up again you will be asked to leave on contempt of court,” the judge proclaimed, his stern voice booming through the microphone on the table. Jeff slumped back in his chair, muttering profanities under his breath.

Jeff’s brother had a Chinese name? Despite the discoloration, it was obvious Jeff is white. And with names like Barbara and Peter, you could only assume the rest of the family was as milky as he is. Maybe his parents just had a cultural interest. 

The lawyer pursed his lips and drummed on the table.

“If I may continue, I would like to further this evidence with the medical report of Jane Arkensaw. Ms. Arkensaw is the only one of those tied at the dinner table to survive. This is likely because she was the only one that was not stabbed, though she was still burned alive. We don’t have an explanation for this. Nonetheless, the report confirms that Woods’ actions are not only malicious but preempted.”

The prosecutor paused to shift through his folder before continuing.

“The testimony of Mrs. Philips states that Woods snuck through the back door and into the dining room where the son was colouring on the table; while Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were in the living room watching television. They weren’t aware that the defendant had entered the home until the son yelled about ‘an ugly lady’ in the kitchen.”

Jeff sneered at the reference to him as an ‘ugly lady.’ He was about to shout something but you elbowed his ribs.

“When the Philips heard their son, they looked over to see Woods with his hands over the child’s mouth and knife to his chest, shouting ‘just go to sleep.’ Mr. Philips lunged at the defendant. Punching him in the jaw and taking the child off the chair. He told his wife to take their son and run, but the defendant stabbed Mr. Phillips in the back. He turned around to try to fight him, but Woods stabbed him in the chest repeatedly before turning to the wife. Mrs. Philips then took the child and ran to her car and escaped to the police station.”

You shuddered after you realised that was when you had your own confrontation with Jeff. You took a glance at him to see him crinkling his eyes and chuckling to himself. He seemed to be recalling the same thing but probably in a different way you were.

“With this evidence, we can conclude that Woods purposefully hunts down each of his victims, and assert the violent nature the defendant who acts without remorse. A person like this can not mingle with the rest of society and will be a continued danger to the community. That is all.” The lawyer finished with a small bow of his head and rearranged his documents back into his folder.

“Would the defence please present their case,” the judge requested. During the prosecutor’s speech, Ray had spread her papers in front of her to prepare herself.

“Yes,” she answered confidently. “First, we would like to present the forensic psychiatric evaluation of the defendant, Jeffery Alan Woods.”

Ray took a moment to clear her throat.

“At the time of arrest, Wood’s appearance gave high indications of lack of self-care. His hair matted and clothes, particularly the hoodie, stained with blood, dirt, and slight semen remains on the pocket. In addition to this, the large gashes in his cheeks had become infected, causing severe swelling in the area. Wood’s eyelids were also burned off, and lack thereof resulting in damage to the eyes and contracted cataracts. The defendant responds honestly and remorseless, though his answers are selective. Woods will make minimal eye contact due to legal blindness.”

She paused to take a drink of water.

“The defendant's recent memory is erratic and recalls the past few weeks in a faster perceived time rate, as he believes that it had only been a few days since he left home. This is most likely due to his manic and fast-paced lifestyle he took after the first delinquent act. Woods often feels he needs to compensate for a past mistake. He suffered a narcissistic injury from disfiguration causing him to disassociate from his own reality, leading him to commit the acts. The defendant's homicides have no prior planning and will act on feeling alone. His initial homicidal ideation spurred by his mother lying about appearance, with the present narcissistic injury, it caused him a fit of rage. Continuous murder lead by lashing out on others around him from hurt and unrelenting anger.”

The sound of scribbling had grown so fast to try to catch everything Ray was saying. The feeling of rush, shock, and intrigue was creating a nervous feeling within you. Ray was cool as a cucumber, steady and unfazed. 

“Pre-injury perceived himself as an obedient law-abiding child. This identity shattered by the consequences of his brother sentenced to Juvenile Hall. To save himself from further ego stripping, his fractured psyche gave him grandiose narcissistic delusions. With the already looming consequence and the disfiguration breaking all sense of self, as a cope, he pushed himself from reality. This maladaptive coping method caused his ego to inflate leading him to believe his problems are central. But the still existing narcissistic injury hurt him, having him believe people are expendable for his emotional release. He shows no remorse and from the hurt of his identity he removed consequences from his conscious.”

Jeff slumped in his chair as he listened. His eyes were darting back and forth, not at anything in the room, but in his thoughts. He furrowed his forehead, muttering “Wait, is that right?” As crazed as Jeff is, he’s still just 13. He’s not that hard to figure out. Ray drank some more water and continued.

“Based on the comprehensive description of the defendant's behaviour and emotional finding at the time of the offence, we can conclude that he was, in fact, insane due to narcissistic injury that left Woods with the inability to understand the nature and result of his actions. Defendant Woods could not appreciate charges or possible penalties due to the traumatic stress, he subconsciously removed consequence from his thought process, but with therapy and counselling, we can reintroduce this. I feel Woods is very competent for court. He has shown to be eager to share and explain himself. The defendant has shown high score in various recent cognition tests, despite his clearly disordered and maladaptive thinking, he is understandable and can explain recent memories well. With explanation, Woods can and is willing to speak appropriately and keep an even temper. That is all.”

Ray stacked her papers and tucked them back into her lavender folder. The opposing lawyer seemed puzzled at something. 

“Does the plaintiff agree to this evidence?” the judge asked.

“One question, your honour.” The judge nodded at the request. “By the sounds of the forensic report, Woods is undoubtedly unstable. How sure are we he's competent to try?”

“We will be accepting the defendant’s testimony due to the submitted cognition tests and the forensic psychological report conclusion.”

The lawyer quietly agreed.

“So,” the judge began after some time, “How does the defence plea?”

The old man eyed Jeff from over his clear framed glasses. The clicking stopped, the room quieting save for the court clerks keyboard.

“The defence pleads, innocent by reason of insanity, your honour,” Ray announced resolutely.

The room erupted into flares and clatter from reporters. You looked over to Jeff. You weren’t sure, but it looked as if he was shaking a little. Just slightly. 

Not long after the arraignment, Jeff was moved to a high-security mental ward. Ray had requested it after learning Jeff would be tried as an adult, as it means he would definitely be at least 580 years prison for his homicides. And that isn’t an exaggeration. But getting Jeffery evaluated, would give solid proof of his mental illness and use it as evidence to have him moved to Juvenile Court for the rest of the trial process. If this succeeds, he’ll be set free at age 21. Not that you necessarily wanted Jeff free, cause let’s face it, guy’s an asshole, but it means he’ll be out of solitary confinement and under doctor supervision. This way Jeff can begin truly healing. Not just pacified.

   One afternoon, some days after Jeff got admitted, your sister drove you down to the treatment centre to visit him. She wanted to walk you up to the front desk, but you insisted on going alone and would text when you finished. 

   You stepped up to the front desk and gave your name and purpose for visiting. They brought you up to the visiting area and told you to wait while they brought Jeff out. The visiting area is a large common space with a few tables and a couch. There were already a few families visiting, talking quietly among themselves. It was funny. Most of the people there didn’t look like criminals. Just victims of society. 

   Jeffery came in the room escorted by a nurse and a security guard. It was a little strange seeing him in this type of environment without any kind of restraints. At least the dark blue hospital pajamas looked better than that gaudy yellow. He snickered as soon as he set eyes on you, lips curling in a way that almost resembled a smirk. 

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he greeted, the chair squeaking across the floor as he pulled it out. 

Jeff plopped into his chair and scooted it closer to the table. Sitting straight and trying to loom as best he could with slightly squared shoulders. 

“Don’t call me sweet cheeks.”

“Hm. Whatever. Just can’t believe you actually got me to do this. Pfft, I don’t belong here. People in here are friggin nuts.”

“You’re no different, Jeff.”

“Are you kidding me? You see that lady over there?” Jeff pointed off to a woman staring out a window that looked to the facilities playground. 

“She says a tall, monochrome clown killed her son! I asked her about it and she said his name is Jack. Hehe, how crazy can you get.”

You looked over to her. She seemed so sad. Just quietly looking, lost in her thoughts. 

“Like I said, you have no place to call anyone in here, ‘crazy’.”

“Whatever. Jeez, is it boring in here. They keep me in an area called, ‘low stimulus,’ to keep me calm-or whatever-the-heck- and just ask me a bunch of dumb questions all day. Good thing I only have like a week left in this funny farm. Then I can get back to your place. Tell your mom to make that chicken thing. I like it.”

“Oh, goody. I can’t wait,” you said flatly.

“Aw don’t be that way, sugar tits. What do you say when I go home with ya, we can have some fun like we did in the woods, eh?”

Jeff stretched and creased his forehead like he was trying to wiggle his non-existent eyebrows.

“Haha no. I hope you don’t talk this way to the other patients.”

“Nope. Just you~I gotta know though, is this the wacky shack you were going to put me in? Cause this one guy has it in for me because he thinks I killed his young nephew or some crap. I mean, I probably did. Who knows-I killed a lot of folks.” Jeff looked down, breathy high pitched giggles pushed out from him.

He just loves rubbing that in.

“No, I don’t think so. I think this is more like a basic trauma centre. Ray says you needed a psychiatric evaluation for the case. Mostly to prove that being in confinement is bad for you, because how paranoid you got in holding. At the end of the week after that evaluation is made they’ll move you to a bigger hospital. You’ll get moved to a criminal ward when we win the trial.”

You tried your best to explain from memory. It had been a bit since Ray had told you her plan for Jeff’s proceedings. Jeffery listened with a surprising amount of interest in his expression, chuckling and leaning on the table.

“Hehe. I can’t wait to blow everyone’s mind! I’ll play cute for those dumbass doctors and get out in no time. Then I can go back to what I was doing and leave the public angry at their own system! I’ll be so famous!”

Is he seriously this dumb? Does he really think he’ll create this much of a public outrage? 

“Well, you’re right Jerry. Have a completely spotless record and you can probably get out in like six months.”

“It’s Jeff. This’ll be done faster than I thought!”

What a cuck. Still, though, Jeff getting excited at the prospect of early release put you on a sense of unease. Yeah, technically it was a possible outcome but if it did happen, then it means he really could get away scott free. And you would’ve helped him. Nevermind he wouldn’t really be receiving the mental help he needed and make all your efforts a failure. 

   No. No, the staffs at mental hospitals are more competent than that. Jeff’s only thirteen, and he’s not that smart. Six months? He can barely behave for a week in your home. Employees at mental institutions have dealt with worse people than him. 

“Sure, Jeff,” you said doubtfully, shooting him a side glance. Jeff creased his under eye in a glare.

“Sure scoff now. You’re still my target numero uno. What am I getting moved to another hospital for anyway?”

“Hm...I think they want to get some procedures done on you, but don’t have the doctors for it here.”

Jeff stopped. He stared at the table, jaw slack, making his lower teeth visible through the gashes. 

“Procedures?” His eyes slowly travelling up to your face. “Like, surgeries?”

“Yeah. You fucked your face up pretty bad. You gotta get that fixed.”

Jeff just stared for a moment. 

His nostrils flaring as his breath hastened.

“You...BITCH!” he screamed, standing and flipping the flimsy table over. 

“Security,” you called calmly, not moving from your seat. 

Two burly female workers swooped in before Jeff could even touch you, clamping each of his arms to them. They were probably waiting for something like this to happen. Jeff thrashed and tried to pull away from them to no avail. 

“Take it back! My face is a facking work of art! I’m Beautiful! Take it Back!” Jeff cried as they carried him out of the room.

   The next week, Jeff transferred to a criminal ward at a nearby hospital. You tried to visit him again, but he refused to see you. Which honestly didn’t hurt your feelings, though you were worried the day he got transferred. It wasn’t marked on your calendar or anything, but the date was certainly committed to memory. It wasn’t so much Jeff being moved to a new hospital, but that he would be receiving the first of his surgeries that afternoon. You were antsy in class, to say the least. Taylor had bought you a snack from the vending machine to try to calm your nerves. It helped for a while. 

   Harris was avoiding you as best she could. The tension at the lunch table was making Jasper nervous. Taylor was able to keep everything peaceful, as usual. Though the underlying feelings of everyone present were still glaring.

   The next day, you received a call almost immediately after you got home. A small lump balled up in your throat when you saw the name ‘Ray’ on caller ID. She was going to call you as soon as she got the results of Jeff’s operations. Slightly hesitant, you swiped the green button and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Sorry to call like this. Are you busy? ” said Ray, her voice exasperated and worried. 

“No, I just got home. Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” she answered immediately. “It’s Jeffery. I just got the reports of his first facial surgeries. The actual operation went fine, but when he woke up he went into a fit. It says he’s been screaming and throwing things since he woke up this morning. And he apparently tried to kill a nurse.”

“What?! Is the nurse okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. He’s currently in a four-point restraint.”

You gulped.

“What the heck are those?”

“Oh, uh, it’s a kind of nylon cuff that holds the patient to the bed by their hands and feet when they’re being harmful to themselves or others.”

Oh no.

“Okay. I’ll go visit him now. Thanks, for telling me.”

“No problem. I just got worried after reading that. Take care, alright.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye. Text me what happens.”

With that, she hung up. Ray sounded concerned. Like, genuinely concerned for Jeff. Guess working with him for so long, she grew a strange kind of attachment to the little weirdo.Or at least a sense of pity.

   Your mother came home about half hour later from work. You rushed to explain to her what was going on and she drove you to the hospital.

   You could hear Jeff’s cries in the hall as you approached his room. 

Two nurses in light blue scrubs were waiting by the door holding a box of gloves and several packaged needles, that you guessed were for IVs.

“Um, excuse me,” you alerted, stepping into the peripheral vision of the closer nurse. They glanced at the door, shuffling a moment before addressing you.

“Can I help you?” Their voice bit with impatience. 

“I’m a friend of Jeff’s. I heard he, uh, wasn’t feeling well, so I came over to see him.”

The nurse paused. Looking away and studying the door. Jeff screamed from the other side, but this seemed to trigger something in the nurse’s thought.

“Oh you’re-yeah, he’s been calling your name for a bit. Could you wait in the waiting room? I’ll tell him you’re here.”

They pointed to a room down the hall, just as the door opened a tired doctor gestured the two nurses inside. The nurse you spoke with gave a quick nod before going into the room. You stood for a moment, listening to Jeff’s wails. Has he really been crying like that since this morning? All day? You could still hear him in the waiting room. After a while, it just started sounding like a baby crying for his mother. That same kind of mournful, desperate tone. Soon it just became screams of hurt, air pushing out of Jeff’s lungs with all of his effort and pain.

Luckily, some kids let you play on their GameCube they had brought into the waiting room. You ended up talking with them and learned that the nurses had let them take the console in because they were there almost every day for long periods at a time visiting their father, who was getting a lot of different surgeries due to complications. It helped to pass the time and Jeff’s noise sort of just drowned out with the game. It had gotten pretty late, but you convinced the nurses to let you stay overnight. You called your mother to drop you off your toiletries and a change of clothes, also agreeing to call in sick for school the next day.

It was the early evening when the screams finally stopped. The hospital eerily quiet after the long hours of Jeff’s cries. The soundtrack of the game you were playing suddenly much clearer. It was unsettling. Was he okay now? Did they finally decide to sedate him? A nurse came in not long after.

“Are you ready to see him?” they called in. 

“Uh, yeah. Is he okay?”

The nurse sighed and slumped their shoulders.

“He seems okay. We think he’s calm enough for you to see him. You’ve been waiting so long, too. Follow me.”

The nurse gestured and held the door open to invite you out. You stumbled up, as your legs limp and having lost feeling from sitting on the floor for so long, every movement sent prickling static up your calves. The nurse waited patiently for you to regain the feeling in them before leading you to Jeff’s room. Your new friends calling out they’ll put your character on ‘auto’ as you went. You carefully opened the door to jeff’s room.

   Jeff’s room is dim. The curtains drawn, save for a small sliver, and a low light above his bed. Jeff was laying back with the bed propped up so he's half sitting up. His left arm bruised from different IV needles. The current one secured to his arm with a purple band. His gaze glossed from the sobs as he stared out the small opening in the curtains out to the city nightscape. 

The iconic gashes on his cheeks now sewn closed. Small stitching lining along the wounds across his face, though some had loosed in his fit. His eyelids also look like they been replaced. The new eyelids like a large, thick, patch of mismatched flesh. It’s raw, glistening, and purple from coagulated blood vessels. Jeff’s eyes no longer gray and colourless, his true eye colour now centre in a bright red sclera. The skin on his face pink and scratched from what could only be his own nails. His hair a matted, sweaty mess around him.

He seemed barely conscious. His mouth hanging open with a thin string of drool dripping on the flannel of his pale blue hospital gown. 

“Jeff?”

You stepped in, gingerly making your way to his bedside. Careful not to block his view of the window. He let out a soft, rasped breath.

“How are you feeling?”

He let out another, slightly louder rasp. You smiled gently at him, your face easing into a mild expression. He seems so...helpless. A small, helpless child. You sighed and moved some hair from his face. His eyes slowly moved to your face, tearing up as you lightly stroked the side of his raw face. You let out a soft, “shh..” and blew cool air on his forehead. He whined as a small tear fell down his cheek. 

“You’ll be okay, Jeff,” you promised, cupping his face. 

His eyes met with yours. And for once, with no predation at all behind them. Simply looking, the need for your presence practically begged in his unblinking eyes. Your silhouette reflected in his glazed pupils. 

You stroked his hair again before lowering your face to his. Tenderly meeting your lips together. You felt Jeff softly exhale as you closed your eyes. You let your lips rest together. A sweet affection exchanging between you as all the crying, all the worry, all the pain, melted. Jeff leaned his head forward, reciprocating as best he could. His lips wet and tasting of blood and bitter medicine.

You pulled away, resting your forehead on Jeff’s. His right hand weakly reaching out and cupping your ear.

“Stay...” he whispered, trying to muster a threatening tone. 

You nodded, settling yourself on the hospital bed so none of your weight was on Jeff, allowing your head to lean on his chest with as little pressure as you could. 

   The hospital was quiet at night. The hushed voices of passing doctors and nurses with the faint sounds of the kids in the waiting room lulled you to sleep. The view of the city in the window the perfect night-light. Just as you started to drift off, you could feel your friend place his hand on your shoulder. 

Breathing a sincere,

“Pl-... Don’t leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wuh, long time no see huh? It's not exactly that I've been ignoring it, it's just that teaching myself all the court procedures, moving out of my moms place, and trying to figure out how jeff's face would be fixed has been tasking. Not to mention the whole order of everything was changed completely half way through writing it, so technically the next chapter is already half way done. More court stuff will be in the next chapter, but bland it will (hopefully) not be, rest assured. The next chapter will come a lot faster than this one.


	4. Only a Lad

The next morning you woke to Jeff grumbling for you to get off him. The room was still dim, all lights off and the curtains drawn. You groaned and stretched as you peeled yourself from the stiff bed.

“Holy crap, is that what you look like?”

You swivelled back at Jeff.

“What? Are you saying you’ve had no idea what I even looked like this whole time? You’re not totally blind, Jeff.”

He scoffed and leaned in closer to inspect your face.

“No crap, I’m not totally blind! Everything was just super blurry and I couldn’t see, like, your features or whatever. Kinda ugly and was hoping you’d have big titis.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Psh, ‘cause I’m here to fill the sexual desires of a pint-sized murderer. You’re no looker Jeff. Especially looking like a patched up scarecrow, like you are now.”

“Actually, you are.”

You were about to shout something at him, but the nurse came in and you had to leave. The kids in the waiting room had gone home. It was silent, save for a man nervously tapping his foot while on his phone.

You spent the day with Jeff in his dim room, secretly enjoying the quips between you two. Jeff is almost fun when he’s calm. Almost. Though you had to leave every two hours or so for Jeff to receive his medicine, physical therapy, or various washings. A lot of people came and went from the waiting room, but the man on his phone was there most of the day. You saw him talking with the doctor in the hall on the way to the restroom. He was crying.

later that week you got back to a normal school schedule. But the daily visits to the hospital, having to walk on eggshells around Jeff, and keeping things normal with your friends all became exhausting. The last step in the trial is tomorrow and Jeff had got snappier as the day came closer. You had grown immune to his rude comments and baiting, much to his dismay.

This had all happened in about a month's time and frankly, you were starting to develop a lot of worries from it. You're still wrestling with how much your future is chosen out for you so far ahead. It’s not that you had any big plans or anything, but you at least wanted the option to choose. You were starting to lose serious sleep. You never forgot how dangerous he is, but you were still nagged by your need to get this poor kid help.

It was lunch time and you were waiting in line for the vending machine, playing with your phone to pass the time. Your finger paused, hearing someone say your name from a conversation in the group near where you were standing.

“I heard they’re defending a killer. Oh my god, why would they do that?”

Had your name been leaked to the press after all? The press was at the preliminary trial but you weren’t interviewed or asked any questions.

“Yeah, I know. Kinda weird though, didn’t they go out with that one girl who likes anime and swears she never cheats and like, says shit to people for smoking weed?”

“Dylan? Or whatever her name is now…Oh yeah, they did!”

“Hey Cody, didn’t you bang them once?”

“Fuck yeah I did. I heard they were an easy score after they fucked that one girl, Harris. Guess they take favours from psychos.”

“Shit, they’re a huge slut now!”

This was so dramatic. Honestly, boys gossip more than anyone else no matter how much they deny it. It was finally your turn to the machine. You paid for your drink, absent-mindedly watching the bottle thump down the machine and took it from under the flap. Opening it immediately, you walked through the centre of the chattering group, holding your chin up as they fell into silence at the realisation you had heard everything they said.

A few weeks later you reported to the courthouse early with Jeffrey ahead of you in the police car. The press was already perched around the entrance. You were feeling exhausted just looking at all the throng you would have to wade through just to get to the doors, you could only imagine what it’ll be like inside. You looked over at Jeff through the rear window in front of you, his face pressed to the window. You could almost imagine him chortling under his breath like, “Hehe, they wanna film me so bad,” his breath fogging the windows. Your mother parked the car purposely in a crowded lot, just to avoid being spotted. You wondered if there was some back entrance you could sneak through, but of course, there wasn’t.

You sat still even after your mom parked. She looked over at you inquisitively, your hands tight in your lap.

“What’s wrong?”

You gulped.

“It’s just, a big day.”

Your mother nodded and turned to the courthouse.

“You never did like cameras did you?”

You just shrugged and clicked your seat belt off, making your way out of the car and up to the old building.

The reporters swarmed you as you rounded the sidewalk to the courthouse. A wave of voices seemingly crashing down around you. Your mother ducking your head down gently, guiding you through the prodding microphones and cameras.  As soon as you stepped into the safety of the courthouse, your mom let out a deep sigh of agitation as she checked you over like you just came home from a fight.

“I’m fine, mom.”

“Good. Nosey bastards need to keep to themselves.”

You giggled at this and when she was satisfied, you went into the room where the trial would be taking place. Ray and your sister were already seated at the defence table. You greeted each other and waited for the proceedings to start. There were twice as many cameras in the preliminary hearing. Everything you, Ray, and even the rest of your family had worked towards, had been culminating to this day. You trusted Ray, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous. How was Jeff taking this? He did avoid talking about the trial. But other than that, he had acted as he normally did.

The bailiff finally entered and then the judge soon after. Everyone stood and sat again once the judge seated. The judge read off Jeff’s full name, the purpose of the case, and his laundry list of charges. The crown review started the same as the preliminary hearing. The arraignment also went much the same, but now included Jeff’s results from his stay at the trauma centre. The persecution went first and present the same evidence that they had before. Only now Mrs. Philips gave a live testimony, the woman whose husband Jeff had killed that day you met him. She was surprisingly young. Tired, but well put together. She calmly explained everything that had happened that evening. Growing more solemn when reaching the part of her spouses' demise and escaping for her and her child’s life from a deranged middle schooler.

Once it was our turn, Ray repeated Jeff’s forensic psychological report, but this time I gave my testimony of what happened that fateful evening. Of course, these testimonies have been submitted in writing during one of the earlier stages. You just couldn’t remember which exactly. You weren’t sure even now of all the intricate court arrangements, but that was Ray’s job, not yours. When you got up to the podium to say your piece, your throat went dry. The news cameras seemed to grow bigger and closer. You had practised your testimony, but your mind was blank. The news stations were recording all of this. The world, your classmates, Harris, would all see this. What could Harris be thinking seeing this?

“Excuse me. Are you ready?”

You shook yourself out of your stupor.

“Yes.You can't be timid now. You straightened your back and gave your name. As you asked the questions, you fell into a rhythm, and before you knew it, it was over. You sat back at your seat, your heart pounding in your ears.

“You did very good,” Ray whispered to you. She smiled sweetly and gave your arm a gentle squeeze. Your nerves simmered down a bit but sent up again when they called his name.

It was Jeffrey’s turn to speak. He chuckled lowly next to you. A guard took Jeff by the hand and escorted him to the podium. It looked like some animal being led with his handcuffs and belly chain. The opposing lawyer stepped up to the stand opposite Jeff.

“Jeffery, tell us about Jane Arkensaw. Was she a close friend of yours?” He began, his tone arrogant, but controlled.

“I don’t even know who the frick that is,” Jeff answered blankly, shrugging relaxed shoulders.

“She was one of the neighbours you burned that night you left your house.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He shook his head and scrunched his chin in attempted recollection, but reached a blank and just shook his head again. The lawyer pursed his lips, looking as though he was trying to suppress his irritation.

“Jeffery,” he continued, switching gears. “Tell us what happened that night you burned your house.”

Jeffrey’s face lowered. His lips curling with the best of his ability into a long grin, eyes piercing from under his brow bone, completely focused on the lawyer.

“You wanna know everything?”

The lawyer gulped. The reporters fell silent. The moment everyone was waiting for, probably.

“Yes, tell us the story as you remember it.”

“The night or the whole day?”

“You can tell us the day if you want.”

“Do you want the night. Or. The day,” Jeff snapped.

The lawyer paused a moment, startled by Jeff’s outburst. He pressed his lips in restrained anger before continuing.

“Tell us the acts as you remember it. When did it start.”

Jeff didn’t speak. The confidence moments ago melted from his expression, as his head hung from his slumping shoulders. You thought back to the forensic report and remembered. This was the point when Jeff must’ve went into his initial rage. The hurt from his narcissistic injury and ego breaking all culminated in that one moment.

“It started when Barbra t-tried to…get Peter-to shoot me.”

“Why did they want to shoot you?”

“I don’ know.”

“What were you doing beforehand?”

“I was…Doing this!” Jeff tilted his head back at an angle, sliding his finger across the stitches of his Cheshire grin. “and then…”

“Then what happened? What did you do?”

“Calm down motherfricker, I’m getting to it. Then mom-phht-Barbara. Mom? What kinda shit is that. Mom! BARBARA…if-how did I look? I asked her how beau- to compliment me. I asked her to compliment on how beautiful I look. ‘cause boy sure, do I look lovely like this-like a painting I’ve been told-”

He sucked in a shaky breath, “She lied to me. She lied to me…hehe…she said to me ‘you look beautiful, Jeffery,’ or some dumbass bitch-shit like That, then she went over to where my dad was sleeping and. Asked him. To get the gun.”

Jeff’s breathing hitched, becoming a fast, shallow wheeze.

“Boy, was I mad. I was mad-she lied to me, saying that I was pretty.”

“I didn’t really like that too much. The fact that she was lying to my face. About something that turned out very well, in my opinion…and sooo…I used the knife I created my face with and, stabbed her. A lot. and, I stabbed Peter. A lot.” He paused, “A lot.”

“And then? What did you do after that?”

“and then I burned my house!”

“What about Liu, Jeffrey? Did you kill Liu?” Jeff’s eyes bulged at the name. His short nails digging into his thighs.

To be honest, this was the part you were personally curious about. He got so defensive at when his brother’s name was mispronounced. But at the same time refused to talk about it at the table with Ray. You strained your ears over the growing noise of the press behind you.

“No,” he heaved, “I pussyed out,” his breath painfully laboured.

“Why didn’t you kill Liu?”

“couldn’t…” he croaked. “too weak to kill him…boy, I wanted to kill Liu. I wanted to kill Liu so bad. I wanted to do it so very badly. I couldn’t-I couldn’t do it. Sure I tried, I tried really bad,” he sputtered, rocking slightly in his seat.

“I-I cut his face, and, and I cut his collarbone and then I cut-his-his-thigh. And, I-I heard in class that there’s a really big vain there, so I was hoping that it would make him bleed a lot, but um…I was shaking! I was shaking so much. I wanted to kill him sooo bad-but I couldn’t. I really really tried to build myself up for it but I just couldn’t do it.”

“Did this wake Liu?”

“Yeeahh.”

“And then? What did he say?”

“He said, not to do it-he-he-ordered-told me not to do it like he has control over me, not to do it or I’m going to go to jail” Jeff looked slowly into the camera of the person next to him.

Too late for that.

“What did you say to him?”

“I covered his mouth-just kept-talking-and-screaming.”

“And then?”

“I told him, ‘go to sleep’.”

The famous line.

But something felt off. You’ve learned a little about how courts should go from all of this, and as you could tell, these are some leading questions.

“Ray,” you asked, leaning over to her, “Are these questions okay? Shouldn’t we object?”

Ray chuckled.

“We can’t just yell, ‘Objection!’, we’ll get removed for contempt of court. These questions are leading, but this is exactly what I want to happen.” You raised an eyebrow. Ray smirked impishly. “I was ready that these types of questions would be asked. Of course, Jeff is guilty. But his feelings about his brother and the forensic report would put enough sympathy on the judges for them to consider him innocent. Don’t worry, I have this under control,” she finished with a sweet smile and a small nod.

This woman is amazing. You had no idea about any of that. And this is only her first case? You turned your attention back to Jeff and the lawyer with a new sense of confidence.

“Why did you want him to go to sleep?” The lawyer asked.

“because I didn’t want him to see me do it,” Jeff spoke in a calmer, more steady voice.

“Jeffery, why didn’t you want him to see you do it? Do you feel guilty about it?”

“It would just be a pain if he saw me do it,” Jeff scoffed. Rocking again in his chair.

“Did you do it for the sake of convenience? Did you want him to go to sleep so he wouldn’t fight you?”

He sat panting for a moment before answering.

“I…” he paused still panting, “Yeah pretty much,” he added quickly.

“Pretty much. So, it’s not entirely it?”

“I…I-I-my brother, I felt close to him. If he looked at me, it would’ve just…made it even harder for me. Not because of remorse, or some dumb shit like that, it’s just, something about it. His look would’ve really bored into me. Would’ve made it harder for me-so if he was asleep-it would have been so much easier to just. Do it. Like I would’ve wanted to.”

“And Liu, when you put your hand over his mouth, did he continue to fight you-”

“After I cut him?” he interrupted.

“Was the house burning at that time?”

“No.”

“If he did not continue to fight back-”

“After I cut him!”

This was probably the most unhinged you’ve seen Jeff. His speech not only more sporadic, his body was also convulsing like he was going to throw up.

“After you cut him,” the lawyer continued.

“No, he did not.”

“Did he try to stop you from setting the fire?”

“No he-he was just lying there. I think he was crying. I think.”

“He lay there crying-”

“-In his bed.”

“He lay there crying as you burned the house.”

“yes,” he hissed, “I was hoping maybe the house-burning the house-the flames and the fire, the house burning, would be able to do the thing I wasn’t able to do.” He forced out a hard breath, coming out as some sort of wheezing laughter. Well, this took a different direction.

“Tell us about the victims, Jeffery.”

“What about them.”

“The bulk of your victims are boys, Liu’s age or younger. Tell me, are you the older or younger sibling?”

“I-I’m the older brother. The older sibling. I am the eldest.”

“Is it possible, that you may have targeted these boys because they reminded you of Liu in some way. Is it a way of fulfilling what you couldn’t before?”

Jeff sat relatively still in a long pause, tensing his shoulders. His back arching like a scared cat.

“I don’t understand the question,” he said quickly.

“Let me rephrase, are you re-enacting that night by targeting these little boys? Though you may go for the rest of the family after. Sometimes you even burn the house afterwards almost as to recreate the night as you would’ve wanted it to happen. Are you trying to correct what you could not before.”

              Jeff paused for a long time, stiff with his head lowered and back square. The lawyer pressed his lips to prevent himself from pushing Jeff like he did earlier. The reporters were using the opportunity to catch up on their notes. But Jeff had stayed silent for so long, their pens slowed. Jeffs breath grew shallow and fast, eyes focused on some far off corner. His left shoulder twitching every so often.

“Do you deny targeting the younger son of the family?” the lawyer finally asked.

“Yeah I guess I do,” he breathed, “Yeah I resent that. Everyday. Of my life. Not killing Liu. I really want to. I still really really wanted to. If I killed Liu, or if Liu was dead right now. I would feel so much lighter.”

“Lighter? Do you feel a weight?”

“Do I feel a weight knowing he’s alive? Yes.”

Jeff let out a sigh and drank some water from the provided cup. It seemed to calm him as his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“We have an account with a young man who survived an encounter with you. He says he felt a breeze from a window that had closed, looking to see you standing there in the moonlight from the curtains. He tried to scream, but you told him something. What did you tell him? Do you remember this incident?”

“I told him to ‘go to sleep’” he said mockingly, grinning as he spoke.

“Isn’t that what you told Liu?”

“That’s what I told everyone,” he said sweetly, still grinning.

“All the victims”

“Everyone. So they don’t see me, so they can just drift off to sleep, So I Can Do My Business!”

“Except that this boy did scream and his father came in. And you threw the knife, it pierced his shoulder. You retrieved it and jumped out of the window again. Did you try to go back to that house?”

“No.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Why’d I stop what?”

“At this house, why did you not continue with your job?”

“Because it would’ve been-there was the dad there, geez. I-I mean he looked pretty angry. It would’ve been a pain for me. I would’ve, I don’t know, I wouldn’t have won that fight-I’m not stupid.”

“So you had no interest in the challenge?”

“No, Peter and Barbara were easy. That, wouldn’t have been easy.”

“Do you know where Liu is now?”

Jeff paused again.

“I…think to myself at night. Thinking, that he’s dead.”

“What would you do if Liu was alive?” Jeff’s jaws dropped, jowls hanging. Eyes once focused entirely on the lawyer now sent downward, head tilting down and shoulders shaking more visibly.

“Jeffery?”

Jeff was started to hyperventilate again. Any composure he had regained a moment ago now gone.

“If you could go back to that night, would you kill Liu?”

Jeff only heaved faster.

“Jeffrey?” The lawyer pressed, but Jeff just continued to sob more. “Are you unsure?”

“Yes,” Jeff answered quickly. “I-I am, I don’t know. I don’t know if I could do it,” he growled in frustration “Just don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I could kill Liu. I want to. I really really want to. It burns…On Me! I want to kill Liu. But can I kill Liu? I don’t know.” Jeff’s nails began digging into his stitching, fingertips pressing down hard. His arms and shoulders are clamped to his body, and his eyes shut to stop any more sobs.

Clawing at his face seems to be a nervous reaction, with how much he’s breaking down there's no way he’s aware of anything he’s doing now.

The way Jeff is acting right now is a definite surprise. He’s so disappointed with himself now, but before all Jeff’s ever been is cocky and self-entitled. Why isn’t he just raging like he did before?  

“Do you only want to kill Liu to finish the job.” The lawyer began again

“Yes.”

“Do you bare any grudge against Liu? As you did with Peter and Barbara?”

Jeff sighed shakily

“No.”

“No further questions,” The lawyer finished, gathering up his papers with a subdued smirk of pride.

This is one mean motherfucker. Sure, Ray was expecting this sort of questioning, but these are some drilling interrogations. Jeff was literally sobbing but he still pressed. The judge let this happen? Jeff was escorted down and sat back in the seat next to you. His breath was shallow and almost dizzy in the way he swayed in the chair.

“Jeff?” you whispered. Jeff only rasped, leaning on your shoulder. His hot breath fogging over your neck. You tried to wiggle from him, but he dug his chin into your collar bone to anchor you in place. If you weren’t in a court of law, you would’ve punched him. Choosing now of all times to be a creep.

You were about to push him off but didn’t. As creepy as his breath is on your neck, he isn’t really doing anything. You listened to him closer and realised he was sobbing still. He was just a scared child needing a bit of comfort in this moment. Especially after the emotional beating he just took.

You relaxed and felt him do the same. He felt so clammy and shook like an anxious puppy.

The lawyer stepped down from the podium and went back to his seat. Ray was asked if she had any questions for the witness, but she declined. What could she possible milk out of Jeff at this point anyway?

The court then went into its final statements. Each side concluding its arguments before the judge went to recess to mull over the results. You sat stiffly because of Jeff leaning on you, but God was the tension building in the courtroom. You clawed at your seat to release some of your pent-up energy. Ray seemed to think this was cute and took a picture on her phone.

Jeff sat back in his seat, eyes hazed and angrily far away. After deliberating for a little under an hour, the judge returned to his podium to give the final verdict. Everyone rose and stood as he settled back in his seat.

“After careful considerations of Jeffery’s case; the forensic report proving him incapable of being incarcerated, in combination with being a juvenile. The court finds Jeffrey Alan Woods, innocent by reason of insanity. As such, he will be sent to a mental health facility and if he is released before the age of eighteen, he will be given to a caregiver until he reaches the age.” The judge read off a sheet of paper, holding his gold-frame glasses up to his face; putting them down to bang the gavel to seal the sentence.

“Court is adjourned.”

Are you serious? They really are letting Jeff off mostly because he’s a minor? Wow. Pennsylvania sure is lenient. You looked over Jeff but he just looked around dazed and confused. But still. You won. You let out a breath of relief, Ray giving your wrist an excited squeeze.

“Jeff, we did it. You’re free,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “They declared you innocent by insanity, so you’ll be institutionalised.”  Jeff scoffed and shrugged your hand off.

“Don’t talk to me like the genie from Aladdin. I ain’t free, I’m getting sent to the booby hatch!” he huffed, slumping in his chair. “Whatever. I’m probably going to get hit by a car anyway.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend that Jeff wasn't quoting a line from a song by suicidal tendencies.  
> I have no idea how high schoolers talk, I tried lol.  
> Also, I'm going to clear smth thing up rn, Liu is going to be present (duh the tags say so) but not homicidal Liu, just regular Liu.


	5. A/N: Updates

Hello, I wanted to apologise for the lack of updates. It's not like I'm not motivated or I'm dropping this fic, no way. My computer took a complete shit and I could not use it at all for about a month. I was able to have a friend fix it for me, so everything is just dandy over here now. Again, I'm very sorry and I will def be able to put something out very soon.  
Thanks again for staying with me and for reading at all, it means so fucking much to me. I put a lot of effort into the background research so any praise makes me so happy.  
See you guys soon.


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